A Poem by Emma Ambos

4:00AM

In the morning

tooearlyforlife

(very-much nightlike

in fact)

 

the periwinkle snails

str-etch-th-eir-le-g-s

and go for a stroll

 

the coldcoffee-cockroaches

have wings like gossamer

and, alight on the backs

of fairy-terns, they

lookdown on us

(in all our slumbers)

forthevery

first time

 

the pistol-shrimp

shed their Great Grey Skin

pull on Pink Party Dresses

and dance to ‘Swan Lake’

-Perfectly-

 

the breadandbutter-flies

draw too near thefire

and make themselves intotoast

 

the new-dawn fawns

dappledwith thieves fingertips

tie their roller-skates up

and clumsy-clatter do-

wn the street

(they’d never leave-

Rudolf out)

 

in the morning

when our bedclothes lully-byeus

something extra-

ordinary

greets the day forus

 

 

 

 

Emma Ambos is a writer with itchy fingertips and a love for the great Outa-Doors.