New Year Sunrise

Post-drought the winter dawning creeps across my coarse and brindled lawn, a molten ocean snail-like seeps and spreads its early morning yawn. A lambent thread it first appeared to rise and fall with rooftops' pitch. Across the frost it persevered, this aura of an angel which has fixed me to this gilded spot with silent prayers in misted breath, the fuchsia-ed clouds the sky's begot above a saffron-laureled wreath. The first of January wakes effulgent as the new year breaks.