Scene stealer

Scene stealer

The mist. Impervious quiet
Ranks low over the cold ground
And settles a silken blanket
Over all the inert scenery
Everything I might interpret
Everywhere I may have to navigate
Dumb. Is it dumb?
Implacably indifferent it leeches colour
From the landscape of morning
And questions whether timely progress
Would profit from any enthusiasm
So. Still and quiet without a face
The day just waits
It is impervious to me. Implacable
In the dimness a shared heart
Asks with a throb for us to wait
For what will occur in hide and seek