As dawn, slips it’s way up over the hill.
So does the old day, slide reluctantly away.
Taking with it the past to be remembered as history.
The birds welcome the dawn of the new day with a song,
With its stories yet to be written and told.
I take pleasure to be here to enjoy it all.
© 2022 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
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