Falling Mists

 

Falling mists,
    the cold, damp splendor,
Wrapped in gray,
   the earth held tender.
Light subdued
    by clouds and fog;
Air now cleansed
    of summer's smog.

Summer's heat
   and dust surrendered:
Cooling rain
   with moistness rendered;
Stifling warmth
   replaced with coolness;
Choking dust,
   with growing newness.

Autumn's rains
   give way to muted;
Autumn's hues
   reconstituted.
Joy returns
   upon a drizzle;
Gone is now
   the summer's sizzle.

Turn and joy
   to walk midst clouds now;
Gently kissed
   though far from crowds' wow.
Turn aside
   from noise all jangled,
Find I here
   life disentangled!
  
- D. Benning