An Unlit Light

The night fell away dousing its own darkness, a weak dawning light hovered hesitantly, over its scant trembling edge. Mist was not mist but an erasing smear, the sky was a half-closed eye. Those who watched, wondered if the new would stay old, or not lift itself at all from the crib or the grave, but fade away in its own blooming. For a long haze-tricked time we walked in the wrong shoes, as a dim twilit world struggled silently to picture itself.