Outside my bedroom window was a blank;
Familiar hidden by a fallen cloud-
In its embrace all noise and sunlight sank,
To sleep beneath the insubstantial shroud.
I yearned to run outside and gladly fill
My lungs with thick, rejuvenating haze,
To breathe the silence and the morning chill,
To pull my mind from its lethargic daze.
But no; when I stepped forth to meet the day,
I found no fog, just shining, dewy turf.
The morning’s blanket had been tucked away
Between horizon and the distant surf.
And though the sun forced morning to unveil,
I made my own mist each time I exhaled.