The mornings are filled with fog now
as if the earth were filling her bowls
with some luminescent porridge
to help the sun ward off the autumn chill.
It softens our wakings, letting us linger
in the world of wispy dreams a while
before the illusions of the day solidify
around us, pulling us once more
into the stories of our lives.
The orange of the remaining maple leaves
gleams in the filtered light, a bright
reminder to write into our stories
some scenes of lustiness and joy.