When the first summer rain stirs the peaceful veil And the white fly casts shadows down tried and true When the firelight sparks in the first dark of night And the thunderous call reaches the mountains through
Within grandeur ends such glory A quiet death for time as it stops
Crashing like passing waves ashore Bursting into the creative mind
That is the caffeine rushing to a combustive heart
Trying to write with morning fog, mostly about morning fog, is like a descriptive eye chart. LOL. #wakeup