The sun does not rise this winter morn
Blue-grey light diffuses slowly across the sky
A year winds down, grey and damp
A day brightening minute by minute
The North Country awakens to a new day
Deep in a valley swamp,
A mother moose lifts her dripping muzzle
And glances around to check on her young twins
Raven sits on a high branch and leans into a call
Brother crow wings across the wooded ledge
And dips it's black wings in recognition
Down to earth, deep in snow
A meadow vole shuffles it's well-worn path
And seeks new greens for nibbling
In a neighboring valley
Wood smoke curls from a fresh-stoked fire
Sweetly scenting the air with cherry wood
At last the sun does rise
Golden-yellow on granite and ice
As songbirds cheerfully greeting the new day
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