Dawn

• Sarah Wray, Grade 9
• Poetry
• 2007

I tiptoe down the corridor,
In the early morning chill.
And out into the waking bush,
As colour creeps over the hill.
The ground is cold on my brown soles,
And I feel my heart fill,
To the brim with love and belonging,
As colour creeps over the hill.
A shadow lands on a branch above,
Tummy full with last nights kill.
A snake slithers just in front of me,
As colour creeps over the hill.
This land's beauty's like none other,
And I believe with all my will,
That I'm happy to be small and dark,
When colour creeps over the hill.