Lake Ann
Nestled by dawn
Caught off guard
Blanketed by morning’s fog

Clouds of fog rise
At a lowly 39 degrees
A hushed morning’s breath

Ozark blue skies
Tinged in cool crisp air
Held close and softly
A first morning’s dove song

Mountain blue birds fly by
I catch myself staying for awhile
Hidden along the garden hedge

My morning’s walk
Found only
Standing in the sun
Sun bathing

Sunlit morning gifts
Warm air scatters my day
Among the songs
I move on . . .