Layette Dawn

Mary Brunini McArdle

Dawn is a sweet nursery;
The mountains’ perennial snowy peaks,
White before the ascending sun
Appears above them,
Turn pastel pink and infant blue-
A watercolor wakening.

Forget the inevitable sunset,
The flames that ruin
The temper of the dawn;
Forget them, put them out of mind;
Savor the layette scene,
And suckle the morning’s mothering.