Our winter sun is pale-bright,
scattering sighs, it dips into night-
as fog flexes muscles dimming all stars-
my eyes mist and you’re blurred.
A dewdrop displays a pellucid grace,
I watch this day’s gait in a hurried pace-
while I play with words in color of tar-
you peep from my heart that’s left ajar.
Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Bittersweet @ Poets United
Shared with Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017 #29 hosted by Thotpurge