ODE TO THE FOG

The morning fog rolled in

Engulfing everything

The gray mixed with white

Felt strangely comforting

Winter is approaching

Like an old familiar friend

As I wrap myself in my discontent

I try and count my blessings...

I stare out the window

Barely able to see

A sturdy birds nest

Built in a tall willow tree

A mama and her babies

Snuggled in twisted branches

She struggles as best she can

To feed those hungry mouths...

In the midst of the mist

I started to shiver

So I built a fire

In the depths of my soul

To warm my fainting heart

That's been stitched up

Time and time again

Aching for a rejuvenated start

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