In morning fog, just through the soggy mist
I can barely make out, across a green field,
It is a morning requiring prepositions.
I step out of my car for pictures.
Camera in hand, it’s beauty all around:
behind, ahead, beneath, beside,
at my feet, over my head, next to my skin.
I am inside clouds that have come down.
And then, a little farther on my drive,
above me the sun strains to break through.
The clear sky brings
little need of qualifiers, conditionals, parsings.