Who will collect the shadows
Cast in the morning light
Losing them in the shallow
Drowning in daily plight
Gone for another cycle
Motherly morning sun
Flickering windy icons
Breezes and bruises – gone
Melodies heard in whispers
Subtle and spectral sounds
Voices that sound like crystals
Perched on the beaming crown
Air is so light and fruity
Hinting at mellow leaves
Bringing the humid beauty
Held in the tepid springs
Drops on the grass of meadows
Mirror the cobalt sky
Who will collect the shadows
Cast in the morning light