Daybreak

         
Last day of the year-
First light at Seven AM.
On the southern horizon,
Slight bands of ice-cloud
Are feathered pink.
High in the black dome of heaven
A crescent ten-day moon
Burns next to Venus.
In the smoke-hazed valley,
Every slanting roof glistens with a hard frost.
Then to the unwary eye it appears-
A loose wedge of snowgeese
Hardly visible a mile high,
On the wing for destinations
Unknown

            -Grass Valley