The time of the year equivalent to 6am The liminal space as we wake from winter sleep
The crescent moon rises high above me.
as cloud tips are blushed pink by the setting sun.
And Branch tips bud all around us.
A frog croaks gloriously.
Later, our first garden fire of the year sends sparks
up into the dark night sky.
and luminous lines of hot light stretch after them
As the dead wood of the old year burns.