You with the sad eyes, I see your true colors, show me a smile.~Cyndi Lauper
The mist on the lake rushes west past lawns
like dancers caught by unexpected dawn.
Bedraggled, trailing, naughty defiant
compliance, they must be juicy giants
though my filters deem them wraiths, vaporous,
pared down to brumous suppliants. Porous
unheeding and quick to reach conclusions.
At the shore they stick matter confusion.
I see my errors, clinging to a script
of what’s unquestioned. Entrainment equipped
mind means I’m blind and deaf to what is here.
Painstakingly I sort beliefs and clear.
Featured image: As the sun rose, the mists fled faster. When I went out to photograph it, mother duck and her brood sped past, as well.