Tabernacle of Fog

I walk

the wooded path,

a wraith appearing

and disappearing

in the fog.

Through the mist

I see roses caught

in the dewy clutch

of morning, and

wonder how

long they’ll escape

the scissored hands

of a bouquet.

Above me a bluebird

watches from a pin oak,

while a slight rustle

near my feet exposes

a gray rabbit debating

whether I am friend or foe.

Reverent among

the wild things

that surround me

I quietly pray

I leave no footprint

a gentle breeze

cannot erase.  

©Susie Clevenger 2025

NaPoWriMo Day 12