This Mist This Morning… Poem by Kevin Kiely

This mist this morning…

I know that all night as we slept—
sure as nakedness and certain
of its stark beauty—
mother mist and father dew
were knitting and skitting
as they talked about their children

and this morning before we blinked
out of sleep, left their jewels
on grass and meadow, bush and leaf.
The tapestry of dawn has crochet,
lace, and tracery on spike and thorn—
these clothes are buttoned with berries

for the cluster oaks—
no-one except the secret God and the night
can make what is beautiful in the darkness
that we rarely see come to the light
of our dreamy and troubled eyes.

(Plazac, Dordogne)