Moist air

Moist air

The lure of fog
lies in its hesitancy.

Its delicate presence
softly dissolves
a hedge of rhododendrons.

Did she leave her smiles
sprinkled over drowsy shrubs?

Will I get to see
that green caterpillar again,
or find a silken cocoon instead,
by the time sunshine returns?

Passerines echo half-asleep whispers
in an indistinct morning.