Morning mist obscures the sun
A thick cloud from ground to sky
The birds’ chirping is subdued
By the dimming of their moods
As the mist all fades away
the sun beats down on the trees
causing the leaves to shine green
into the eyes of the birds
Not quite random is the song
that proceeds from the birds’ beaks
It fills the air with music
not quite without time or key
Together with cars and trains
the birds sing into the air
And then the last bit of mist
is banished into the sky