the fog 

misty

sits in the hills

low

covering the ground

and grey cloud

so soft

transparent

put your hand through it

but could never hold onto it

dark green grasses 

reach up when the clouds drift low

and sometimes

the way the moon shines

as the wind moves

looks like a silent song

where all the greenery of the earth 

listens 

the clouds

they move so gracefully

dancing as light rolls over under

through the valleys 

then dissipates in morning sun