In Smiling Hands
Locked in dawn light
and ponded air
the town waits for the day to happen.
Sun unshackles the horizon
breaks free.
A sky, fresh-polished
oversees the stir of waking life.
Magpies sing reveille.
Winds call up
a gathering of clouds.
Leaves dance vibrato
through a weft of trees.
The town blinks night away
brews coffee
showers
throws open doors
steps out into morning.
Fate cups the hour
in smiling hands.
Wendell Watt