Early summer haze
covering the fields and streams.
Waiting for the sun
to burn it off.
A slight chill in the air,
coffee feels
warm on one's hands.
Off in the distance a
church steeple beckons
calling the sols back home.
The birds sing
in thier various
tunes, already starting
their quest for food.
The haze does not
impede them while looking
for a bountiful breakfast.
All gods creatures great and
small await the lifting
of the haze so they
can truly begin
a new day.
