Morning Fog Poem by Theresa Ann Moore

Opening my eyes to the light of dawn
Confused and dismayed
The good morning greeting is gone
The cock-a-doodle-do has no rays

Milky vapors of glue confined my view
Black silhouettes of leaf topped trunks
Stand motionless giving reality no clue
Identities are cloaked like hooded monks

Streetlights appear to be suspended orbs
Suffocating mist hushes with its murky grasp
Slowly the shroud lifts and no longer absorbs
Sunlight filters through, dismissing the lapse

Warm highlights begin to brush the leaves
Hues glisten as daylight rolls up its sleeves