The s k y has come down from it's p e d e s t a l
Chilly m i s t is layered over the c i t y,
Blurring the e d g e s and l i n e s
That define what we know as r e a l i t y

Keeping us from worrying
About w h a t  i s to come
Until it is actually in front of us
Though w o n d e r keeps us on our t o e s,
C r e a t i o n is at our **f i n g e r t i p s