At daybreak, we rise and shake
the slumber from the storm clouds;
morning overtook the night and now gawks
awkwardly over grey lake, opaque
with mist descended, remaking
starlit scene into sombre smoke-
lined beach, streaked, shroud-like;
the scene soaks in the mystique of this
moment, eking out meaning from
what was just our gods’ talk – gods’ play.
Don’t make the mistake, don’t seek substance
where there exists only the weak ache
of the everyday.
With thanks for the inspiration from today’s prompt at Quickly (and thanks to Jennifer for leading me there).