Waiting Dawn

Dark and deep the transient night. Seven hours  to midnight.
Evening lingers in the west. Squirrels curled and safe sleep.
Black bird in the holly. Leaves swept away  for spring,
Clouds draw back the curtains. Call the sun to help.
The day had been content. Everything in place, complete.
Embers dying in the hearth. Grey ash  beneath the grate.
A chill beneath the kitchen door. A draught from the night.
A glass consumed on the desk. The book half closed un-read
Seven hours to midnight. Winter evening, long and lonely.
What had the book to say.? Closed on the shelf ,unread.
Fill the glass once more. Wait another day.