It’s Not Darkest

Pre-dawn sit,
	just me, at my brother-in-law’s.
I look out the window and focus
	on stubble, Indiana fields
		that I cannot yet see.

The black sky fades to gray.
	An underlying blue starts to appear,
as the eye goes down to the horizon,
	growing lighter as the clock ticks,
and the underlying blue brightens

Eventually the sky turns yellow,
	then a light yellow orange,
		to herald the unrisen sun.
Black inscriptions appear on the horizon 
from the distant bare trees

It’s not darkest before the dawn.
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