Morning

The thinnest crescent beamed among the clouds,
Stern silhouettes against approaching dawn
And surrounding the scene like jealous crowds
Forbid to gain such a heady echelon.
Oh piteous banks! Doomed to listless droop!
Only by solar strength will you scatter
To once again perpetually regroup
Like any other melancholy matter
Able only to assay higher spheres
To be fettered by condensation's pinch.

But be not the bane of exposed leafleteers
Or of inexperienced wren and finch
Who persevere through your angriest blow
For another chance to watch the lunar glow!