Wendell Watt: ‘In Smiling Hands’

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
throws open doors
steps out into morning.

Fate cups the hour
in smiling hands.

Wendell Watt

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