morning dew

the early hours, sleep
eludes me:  precious friend
who flees

all I hear is the wind
come from the earth's end
pushing against the cottage
in great walloping gusts

soon there will be snow,
dropped temperature plummets
like a stone from a cliff

no ifs or buts I came
from the low-lands to live
up here in the mountains
where nature's grip is tight

I don't sleep at night now
yet am forever tired:
poor tiny thing, dust
grain at the universe's end

my love I send
I bend my sorrow like light
through a prism
my tears fall soft like the dew that
drips from branches in the morning

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