Mist

Cold, bluish, and the early sun
Smoky trees, whitened skies, and murky vision-
A parable disguised in the morning mist,
A paradox twisted in surrounding dawn-
Something beneath, something not, but entwined me.

Cool breeze, grayish, and the lost warmth,
Shivering leaves, damp and moist, and a wet path-
A gait eerily guided by light, though scene blurs,
A wait wearily misted by love, though it pains-
Something beneath, something not, but the entwined me.