Sonnet 869
“Frost At Dawn”
Frost at dawn grows to sight
In crawl of slow December light
Grey then silver against the dark
Of cedars still locked in hold of night
Until conquered by low rise of sky
Frost at dawn is slight as mist cold as ice
Then gives way to creations of the day
Who cross its silent gleaming plain
That for a single hour ruled
The writing of the play
By John Edwards
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