at dawn no
really at dawn
aubade or not
sung so bad
the light be
troth to the
first instance trans
mission a series
of stories to
whom it was
given rusted rays
of jagged metal
sun blast arctic
air winter slant
of light a
clarifying barren light
sit beside these
clattering pine limbs
by Hank Lazer
published in Exquisite Corpse