B - Caer Feddiwid

CAER FEDDIWID

This was morning.
The dust laden streams of sunlight found me out,
a calypso played on whipped cream lines,
staining my face.
A new morning
for the world with wizened cheeks and pale old eyes
to spread again the fluffed and ancient
blanket of toil.
This was morning,
a glove flung in challenge, a harsh word spoken,
a sly promise intending deceit,
chaining my place.