Mist
Running across a blanket of dawn,
a woman in pain labors with determined pace
through a drizzle of not quite rain
her damp feet race along
Misty fingers grab and tangle
from wet stacks of reeds steam forms a cloud
feeding the fog enveloping her
in a sheer wet shroud.
On she slogs through damp, thick haze,
while through her pores slowly leaks away, lost within this soggy maze.
Soaked by sadness, sweat and dew
she slowly dripdrops from existence
dissolves like sugar in a morning’s tea,
lingers
then slips away from view
Tomorrow’s headline will insist
Local woman mysteriously mist