Was it love that drew
Thick mist to earth, or the few
kind words of comfort to her ear
After hearing that he had left?

In the morning dew she wondered
If love is a resource squandered
by nature's silent forces
Cloud's decent, river's courses

Or, had love been that counter-weight
Keeping clouds suspended, rivers straight
With falling mist and kind words
a lonely manifestation
the slow dissipation
of love's sweet state