Last Fog at Sunrise by Travers Charron

Last Fog at Sunrise Travers Charron If life stretched on forever,would we still kneel in the wild mintjust to listen to the wind?It’s the fire burning lowthat draws us near.The song, fadingthat makes us sing.The morning mist liftingthat reveals the deer in the clearing.Grief is not just absence–it’s the overflowof all we didn’t say,the touch we postponed,a life paused too longon someday.We are eacha breath on glass,a shadow just beginning to fall.One day,we’ll rise as the last fog at sunrise–already vanishing as the light arrives.Sof if you love, say so.If something stirs you,listen.The morning comes quickly.And the fognever stays.More from Travers Charron ↓@the_inkwellian on ThreadsScattering Poem Seeds on SubstackHis tanka and haiku collection, Glass Shadows, is available now.Currently he is preparing his first full-length poetry collection, Thunderclap Heart, for submission later this year.