Angular Momentum

The sun is dawn fire in bare budding oaks
the day waits to be full stricken by light
the sky’s blue bowl curves cool up and away
the birds sing as if a cloud were all ears

sudden cold snap serves an arrest warrant
on the full blooming daffodils, chills them,
stills them, holds them, prolongs  their moment,
they wait for their release, all unperturbed

…