Breathless
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Clouds hang low, muffling the maple-covered mountainside.
Fog rises from a saturated earth, weakly wetting a soft breeze.
Mist maintains the connection 'tween earth and eternity.
Within the gloom, where barren treetops scrap the sky, twigs green.
Hope springs with random bits of color to the opened mortal eye.
Soon, soon, a brighter pallet will appear, light will live.
A gray day lies upon the wane and weary eye of morn.
Soon, wind-born blossoms wipe the cinders from the pale eye of sol,
melting the chill of fog and mist, warming the home of man.
First Published by Mused: BellaOnLine Literary Review 2015
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2016
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