Insects pound the dawn window
pulp their fabric
into the frantic search;
and as always
the secret music of perfume
accompanies your entrance.
This is how I wake:
your face at the foot
of the bed, the colour
of pepper and honey;
a safe haven
for first steps.
Filed under poetry
Tagged as Another Lost Shark, Contemporary Australian Poetry, Contemporary Poetry, Graham Nunn, Graham Nunn poetry, Graham Nunn Waking Hours, new poem, new poetry, new writing, poem, poetry, poetry of Graham Nunn, Waking Hours, Waking Hours by Graham Nunn, Waking Hours Poem, writing
