7AM

Early morning
and the mist has not lifted
from your mind,

the fog of sleep and confusion
in battle with the day’s demands,
sifting through the night’s dreams,

those dark and colorful imaginings,
that, too like life,
never quite come into focus.

About this poem

The picture was taken not far from here, yesterday morning. One of a series of fog shots I got before the sun broke through.

Is life like fog? Hiding everything, yet slowly burning off? Yes, all to often it is. You just have to wait it out sometimes.

Tom