The Latency of Morning

The Writer, Vernon Wade

Vernon Wade is a poet, author and freelancer. He has been published in The Gorge Literary Journal, Dualsport Rider Magazine, Hack’d Magazine, The Sidecarist, ROB Magazine and The Hood River News.

The world fills him with wonder.  When he looks at the sky he is lifted into flights of fancy, when he stares at the earth he is drawn beneath its surface. He is delighted to find the macrocosm and the microcosm equally mesmerizing.

It has been snowing for a week

It snowed all last night

It is snowing yet.

My world, confined to what I can see,

is a shapeless mass of amorphous heaps.

A rumpled blanket hides the ground.

Everything is pale and colorless.

The paper birch, branches laced with snow,

the black limbs of the oaks,

each bearing a mantle of white,

monochromatic.

I perceive only black and white.

But that is not true.

What I see are subtle, mysterious,

unidentifiable variations of blue.

The sky itself, vaguely luminescent,

glowing cesious in the latency of morning,

without glimmer or shade

to hint at east or west, north or south,

casting shadows which only suggest down from up.

The snowflakes, cold and blue,

continue to spiral to the ground.

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