Greet the Morn
Margaret V.Doran
The rays of sun filter through the fir trees
like the very Glory of God,
in long triangles that get wider
as they reach the earth
dispelling the mist that flows to oblivion
warming the ground
kissing the buds to blossom
waking the worms for the robin
creating mercury drops of dew
that coalesce on the tip of each
Douglas fir needle
Copyright © 2005 Margaret V. Doran
All rights reserved.
If you enjoyed this poem, please send her an e-mail here.
Updated March 8, 2005
Return to Title Page