morning gray

 

The mild morning air made a mark
fog gathered the streetlights into soft glowing balls
and the beginning of chill met the end of heavy warm air
thick, grey mists take on the colors of night.

Red sky at dawn and the clouds have fallen
across the dew-wet lawns; i watch
as it swallows the red tail flare
of a passing yellow cab, gone before half the block
passed into a zone of unseen vibration and muffled roars

I treasure this cloud-bound time
because it fades with the bight coming day
yet, resisting the onslaught
of mercurial rays it somehow grays the morning
and stays in the aspect of long streets and winding avenues
i watch trucks emerge and buses disappear

Fog in the city
a morning of light vignettes and evergreen shadows
adds to the magic of sudden appearing and vanishings
like an endless set of doors
opening and closing on the recently seen.