In the stillness of night
the mist descends upon earth
a shroud,
like a blanket
just barely visible in moonlight
forever
wandering
yet
perfectly still
the sea of clouds
keeps watch
over
the sleeping ground
until, above sloping hills
The rising sun
a warm embrace of light
mist fades into retreating night
leaving only tiny droplets
upon the fields of grass
which stretch heavenward
towards the sunrise
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