Montana Mist

A mist descends over Montana

blanketing its quarries and riverbeds

with a soft, morning doom.

 

It lingers because it doesn’t know

that the birds are still quiet

and the underbrush has gone

dark of its fireflies.

 

It lingers because it has nowhere

to go and no place to call home;

It’s nothing more but mist, yet,

its encroaching waves hide plenty.

 

It lingers because the mud is warm

and there are no crawfish in it.

But the morning always has to

end and all is lost in fables.

 

A mist fades over Montana

pulling up through pine needles

Diving to the heavy forest floor.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I loved how you used the description dear Anna.
"A mist fades over Montana
pulling up through pine needles
Diving to the heavy forest floor."
The above lines. So strong and you allowed to see and feel your words. Thank you dear poet for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote