African Sunrise

A sliver of blood stains the eastern horizon:
somewhere beyond those hills
the Indian Ocean is giving birth to the new day.

Soon enough the time of burning heat,
with its confusion of dust and wheels and songs and smiles,
hard sales and shouting voices;

for now, though, all is quiet,
the world and this back yard
nestled in dark velvet under a crescent moon:
everything still balanced and cool,
everything still waiting for that first cock to crow.