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Mornings

Fog slips between trees
dampening bark and asphalt

Cold and clammy fingered
mist upon my cheek.

Afghan pulled tighter
against a morning chill.

The tea steams in the cup
lemony scented liquid warms.

For the moment visible earth
is wrapped in layers of gray silence

and I almost feel your hand reaching
from somewhere nearby.

...

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Comments


  • Mallig gold member
    March 21, 2008

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    This is excellent, the sensory images are wonderful throughout. Great line, "For the moment visible earth
    is wrapped in layers of gray silence"


  • rbruce gold member
    February 14, 2008

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    JUst lovely, the cold misty morning mixed with the mysterious hand - reaching. I like the combination of surety and mystery. Cheers, Bob


  • Amicus2K9
    February 12, 2008
    Edit | Reply

    There is a mystery here...

    ...beyond the passive subtle painting of a foggy,chilly morning warmed by friendly brew and it has to do with....you, whose hand is felt in surreal terms cloaked in tendrils of wispy nonexistence... who might it be, he or she, not said, but masculine in feel, somewhere, nearby....I wonder, I do, I do...

    very nice...

    Amicus...




  • Nicolette gold member
    February 9, 2008

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    Those last two lines are a perfect closing...to end this cold day in warmth....sighs, yes, if only. Lovely poetry, with so many visuals to make the mind walk along and wish for that hand too.

    ~ Nicolette