A mist persists as the sun rises.
It's dense enough to be a fog
like the kind that blankets an Autumn night
when the air holds the water too tight.
A shadow sits on a pile of logs.

Seated in defeat a woman rests her weary feet.
Head bowed low, hands knitted together;
then pulling them apart like undoing an errant stitch.
A frown marring her face as she can't help but twitch
as the early morning breeze mocks Summer's weather.

It'd be better if her sweater wasn't woolen fetters.
Its looping pattern looked more like grey chains
meant to keep the early morning shivers contained
but they're too loose so no heat remained.
Her teeth chattered, blood cooling in blue veins.

The cool breeze eases until it ceases.
The woman rubs her shaking arms with withered hands.
Light and warmth start to spread as the sun climbs the sky
burning away the fog that sheltered all from the eye.
With energy and suddeness, the woman stands.

In her field of vision is life's final decision.
Something only she can see when the time is right.
What she saw the summer morning, no one can say for sure
but it appears to all she disappeared and no longer had to endure
the rest of the world's plight.