Barefoot Poetry

SS Matthews

Too Late for Sunrise


Bird, Egret

Gray wings of dawn
glide currents of flame-
ten thousand degrees above
the horizon she burns
onto heaven’s stage, vaporizing
late waking wisps of angel’s hair mist.

Sea-spray lingers in the air
misting lower levels.

There is music in this morning
to which sand pipers play
peck and dodge to the percussion of waves.

Lyre breezes strum worlds into motion
creating symphonies in slick and spiral halls
of un-chambered tide strewn shells.

Peeling away layers
is the way the wind bends,
smoothing into swells
shearing tops into sparkling trails
fanned from crests onto pelican wings
that slip single file toward a gathering.

Pastel condominiums-
first to wear the warming rays
the mirror-flash of sunrise blast
on windows blind to surfers’ dance.


Artists sketching on reams of watery canvas
through veils of vanishing shadow
slicing seams in aqua-marine
drafting arcs of white shot tight
through the curl of oncoming day.

One block away, another world awakens.
Students flock from parking lots
burdened with theories and proofs
lending today to tomorrow.

While pragmatic professors
prepare to pave this day’s face of the endless wave
enjoying last, eager sips of a decaffeinated reality.

Poetry by SS Matthews


Author: SSMatthews

Author of The Moon and Rowan Wolfe and Wolfe's Banes.

5 thoughts on “Too Late for Sunrise

  1. nice…i would love to learn to surf….i like how you tie that in with teaching as well there in the end…
    and i will take my reality caffeinated please…smiles.

  2. Oh the contrast between the students and the professors.. and that wonderful nature.. I want to leave for the beach.

  3. This made me miss the sea . . . you momentarily took me there, sensing and feeling it.

  4. Beautiful seaside imagery – I want to go to the beach now, but it’s dark, cold, windy and raining here in Scotland …

  5. Gorgeously well written. Thank you.

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