Saturday, September 1, 2012

A Poem by Emma Ambos

4:00AM

In the morning
tooearlyforlife
(very-much nightlike
in fact)
 
the periwinkle snails
str-etch-th-eir-le-g-s
and go for a stroll
 
the coldcoffee-cockroaches
have wings like gossamer
and, alight on the backs
of fairy-terns, they
lookdown on us
(in all our slumbers)
forthevery
first time
 
the pistol-shrimp
shed their Great Grey Skin
pull on Pink Party Dresses
and dance to ‘Swan Lake’
-Perfectly-
 
the breadandbutter-flies
draw too near thefire
and make themselves intotoast
 
the new-dawn fawns
dappledwith thieves fingertips
tie their roller-skates up
and clumsy-clatter do-
wn the street
(they’d never leave-
Rudolf out)
 
in the morning
when our bedclothes lully-byeus
something extra-
ordinary
greets the day forus
 
 
 
 
Emma Ambos is a writer with itchy fingertips and a love for the great Outa-Doors.

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