Misting
Misting
The dancing mist
at morning dawns,
It flickers, rises,
settling down-
and joins the grass
of green below,
"til wind once more
against it blows-
then up and up,
it floats anew-
to seek the sun
the clouds (though few)
disperse before
the warming breeze,
while I, in wisdom,
do perceive...
Copyright © Thama Logan | Year Posted 2020
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