silvery, quiet
morning creeping in.
Misty strands of night
hang in the air,
thick heaviness,
of humidity hovering,
covering my shoulders.
There's a yellow greenness;
a quality in the rising light -
blue trying to overcome the blanket of night.
Gray, green moss
hangs from the fingers
of trees,
swaying gently in an unseen breeze.
Another day arrives
with a whisper.
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