“Young Writer” by Alicia Lowden


Dew drop
Morning light
Touches the dark skies,
Sweeping across the land.

Faintly, it reveals
Hidden dew drops
Nestled in their beds of grass,
Reflecting the light
Like fiery stars.

Children of the morning,
Unmoving in body,
Dancing in spirit
Fade away,
Dead in the eyes of the sun.

Born in night's womb,
Disappearing
To the touch of warmth.