The wee small hours of the dawn
take their toll on me
It's when my thoughts start to form
and turn into potpourri.

They accumulate before sunrise
and I jot them on a pad.
And I think back on the wee small hours,
some happy and some sad.

But poets know that every thought
has a purpose for the soul.
And the wee small hours of the dawn
are the ones where I feel whole.

Edwina Reizer

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-wee-small-hours-2/