At dawn open chicory blooms

banish my gloom—

their haze of blue,

light purple hues!

Once I was a morning flower,

early hours

were my domain,

when youth did reign.

Now when I waken feeling down,

to lift my frown

I look, listen,

feel the glisten.



My poem is in response to Jane Dougherty Poetry Challenge #38: Daybreak.  The  form this week is a Minute poem with daybreak as the theme and this painting by Heinrich Vogeler Sehnsucht as inspiration.



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10 thoughts on “Daybreak

      1. They are hardy plants for sure. The yard in front of our house is actually a field–never sodded except perhaps a few yards immediately next to the house. This year I let bunches of chicory grow instead of mowing them down…to enjoy their colour….but they don’t belong in your roses!


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