when I wake with fog draped all around
the view drawn close
mysteries emerge from shadows
magic flickers
spirits rub up against me
I wonder if the sun will burn away promises
like kicking covers off of a warm bed
or if this is a day for embracing
what we can’t see
holding onto feelings that never begin or end in clarity
but dissolve from or into a place that’s always just out of reach
unknowable as your thoughts when I reach out my hand
unknowable as any tomorrow
David Trudel © 2015
