We awake to the muffled chaff of rain
as the grey down of clouds roundly tussle
for the pleasure of concealing dawn.
Impending: by Bonnie McClellan
reflection: spare crop / fleet mind
reflection: spare crop / fleet mind
We awake to the muffled chaff of rain
as the grey down of clouds roundly tussle
for the pleasure of concealing dawn.
Bonnie McClellan-Broussard 
Those are the best dawns to awake to for deep thinking, I find.
Unconcealed dawns
are far and away
too distracting.
You reminded me of the very threatening and unconcealed dawn in the opening description from D.H. Lawrence’s “Sea and Sardinia”:
“Under the lid of the half-cloudy night sky, far away at the rim of the Ionian sea, the first light, like metal fusing…
The sky and sea are parting like an oyster shell, with a low red gape. Looking across from the veranda at it, one shivers. Not that it is cold. The morning is not at all cold. But the ominousness of it: that long red slit between a dark sky and a dark Ionian sea, terrible old bivalve which has held life between its lips so long. And here, at this house, we are ledged so awfully above the dawn…”