Fog Over Bean Fields

Fog of early morning mists
hover over bean fields.
A blanket to sleeping Earth.
Bees in the garden begin to buzz,
a rabbit nibbles on the leaves
of acorn squash.
My cat paces, ever the early bird.
Where is his worm?

As sun rises, mist retreats,
formations emerge.
Trees wave their good mornings,
bean plants quiver in morning breezes;
A hot breath of the day
warming the frozen hands of the night.
Colors more vibrant, the world more awake
moving to a rhythm
too fast for snapping fingers.
Metallic days, digital thoughts.

Everything has wires.

Until mists come again
with the falling of the sun
and I fall asleep to
fog over bean fields.