The chill of

early morning

grasps me

with its icy

touch

and shakes

out the last

remnants

of sleep’s

warm embrace.

 

The first rays

of the low

winter sun

strike my

blinking eyes,

and I inquisitively

look across at

the gum trees,

all misted and

concealed in the

ghostly clouds

of the new day.

 

The distant city

sticks its pointed head

above the Bay

and bathes in

the dense

and steamy mist that

tries its best to hide

from the morning sun

the grand entrance

of the city.

 

And then,

as the last

fragments of a

warming breakfast

are cleared,

so too does the

fleeting life

of the mist

say its

early goodbyes

as the rising sun

dissolves its

cool flowing face,

one that will return

with its mysterious

and wispy shapes,

on another day.

 

1/6/2016