Buildings wear fog
Like hats on their heads &
Each breath floats like
Ghosts in the cold
Ghosts in the cold
Crumpled expressions
On people who pass
That these street lamps
Unmask with their glow
Unmask with their glow
Waterlogged traffic
Whines as it creeps
Along the sleek ribbon road &
The air has been steeped in
The grayest of grays; but
My, what a beautiful day.
Softly the dragging
On sagging eye lids
Edgeless and easy
The weightless mind is
Simple and sated and
Full and inflated with
Bliss
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