It is around three in the morning and

the pavement and concrete outside
are covered in shiny wetness
and even if I feel rather old
the world appears newly born.

The fog are a million tiny dancers
gathering around each street lamp
and the lights are all fighting
to illuminate the sparkling ground

no matter that each one wears a halo.
The shadows appear a shade less dim
and all the stars are hiding tonight
amidst the lords and ladies of the midst.

I close my eyes and feel their kiss
and wonder if I breathe enough fog in
will it too hide and drown my sorrows
or help me in wanting to wake up tomorrow.