Before dawn wind rushes
driving night’s chill westward
so vestiges of darkness
send shivers along my spine.
Facing east I fight
cold’s piercing urge to wince,
and huddled await morn’s blush.
No wind or cold may dissuade
my eyes from pending purchase
of that precious brief pink palette,
clouds trimmed in rosy piping
which dress the sky at dawn.

Mary Havran

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/before-the-dawn-5/