Night Light

Waking up startled,
I arose,
and in the early morning
I made my way
silently and carefully
to the front door.

When open,
I listened
to the night.


I thought I heard,
over the tops of trees,
crying in the wind.
But then
the calls of gulls,
drifting from the far reaches
of the North,
filtered down
through the leaves.

Backing into the house,
I settled safe
in my comfortable chair;
but, still listening,
I switched on the light
and waited hopefully
for the welcoming sun.

Don Cadwallader

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