Mist
(For the Lady of the Lake)

I see grey mist rising
Breathing up from the dark wet places
In between
Land and sea
Sky and shore

I see grey mist cradled like a sleeping cat
Dreaming in the dark secret places 
In between 
Hill and hill
Twilight and dark or light

Creek and willow hold this sweet breath
Evening rains feed it
Crows, two by two, fly into the trees, 
Where drops cling to the branches
Turning to fairy gold and ox blood

Bells in the dawn light, as the leaves fall
Waves lap against the rocks, closing fast
Above silver scale and steel blade
The mist hides Her hand in this
And then hides itself away.


8-9-7
By Leni Austine