“All night the sound had
come back again,
and again falls
this quiet, persistent rain.”
-Robert Creeley, The Rain
There is a certain elegance in mist.
It is strange, making your world so very small.
All eyes can see are animated silhouettes.
Blurry shapes passing through the translucent wall of steam.
Light travels in shape of faded glows
The universe hides in the white mystery.
All is silent.
All is present.
All is gone.
In response to the one-word prompt : Elegance