Misty Morning's Whisper
Her warm breath fogs the pane.
She draws a mis-ty veil.
Footsteps fade like lost ghosts.
Her voice melts in the rain.
Dreams ache inside her chest.
Hope hums of might-have-been.
Contest: SOME KIND OF MISTY Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Date: July 5, 2025
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