a poem by Chloe Margaret Taylor, UK

I tilt my window open every night
just a bit.
My dreams entangle with the cold starlight,
so I sit
To smell sharp frost, watch silver pricks appear,
Keen my ear for owls, then shrink with dark fear
When the moon clouds, and leaves my room unlit.

The frost is on the sill when dawn slips in
to warm me.
The birds have sunshine in their eyes, their din
then wakes me.
I pad to the pane and half in, half out,
I smell the rain and hear a sparrow shout,
I like to let the world in so lively.

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