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The Spring Fog of August

Through the gorge of yellow and orange

Fog thrown, waiting for the dawn

Water ripples, ever winding throughout a terrace

A sight coveted by the evening light

The sounds of night, kept tight

Walls of support are carved by the canyons embrace

Woven through the foggy mist, the hills rest

Beauty boils from the crust of the earth

In thoughts of delight, I sit and ponder

What jubilee does the babble bring

Night settles, the stream carries on

The canyon and it's carvings rest in bliss

Strong and courageous, bearing no relent

Time moves with hands of caress

As whispering winds bring an earthy scent

Does gravity covet the light minded...

© 2019 Mitchell Marso


Mitchell Marso (author) from Mankato, MN on January 12, 2019:

Thank you, mirajraha. I am happy that you had found some articulate meaning inside this poem. Again, thank you for your compliment.

mirajraha on January 11, 2019:

Absolutely beautiful, wonderful play of words.

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