The silver of dawn’s sword
has slit through the
thick, black shroud of
the armourless knight’s
fog and facade.

The orange flames of
a new sunrise has
set aflame to the
past love of all
of yesterday’s and
the nights before them.

Birds soaring up high
sing melodies of a
new day and a promised
better tomorrow,

while the world is
being held up high
against the backdrop of
mourning silhouettes of
trees and their barren fangs
in the dead of
January.