Discourse Poem: Mist

Discourse Poem. Mist Outside, once again, the day Only pretends to have come. Oh, yes, of course, our beds were left and I do see it must be that The sun rose — because the trees extend Their stark branches visibly between here And some lighter tone than night — But were I dipping my brushes To a palette to choose a color For this sky, I would be opting Somewhere near a mourning dove-gray And a translucent mouse-white. The true horizon lies unclear beyond Unfalling mist with no lights able To blink through. The diary of Beauty for this despairing Year marks the day as another loss. There is no “but only” in this scenario, For it leaves us only with wishing otherwise, or Turning inward To seeking the blue skies of the soul. ********. ********. ******** (c) sally Young eslinger 12/16/2020h Thanks be to God