Literature
Mist-And-Rain
I can feel the rain misting all around me.
It is not quite rain,
Yet it is not quite fog -
More of a in-between,
Something quite unaware of what it is,
More aware of how it may be
And happily
Patters on the glass.
The room is unfamiliar, yet comfortable,
Though internally,
Time is still skewed.
Today I saw how dark depths can be.
I saw how far the mist-and-rain can travel.
The marks it makes are touchable,
And hard and smooth -
Yet they are unfathomable, like from a dream.
I saw an endless field today,
An expanse of gray -
Not cotton like the bewildered sky,
But a hard gray to the eye -
Though easy to walk on, if rough on