Every Day is New...

 Fog rising from the hills,
     a sea of rolling milky white
hiding civilization from sight,
     leaving only the tallest of trees
visible now and then as the breeze
     moves the fast fading curtain
revealing the players behind
     waiting their turn on stage
The day grows bright,
     packs of squirrels
running up and down trees
     and balancing across branches,
leaping from tree to tree
     for the sheer joy it seems
or to tease the wrens,
     chatter at Tom Turkey and his hens
as they make their way along their snow dusted path
     scratching and strutting with cackles like laughs
as the iridescence of their feathers
     reflect the colors of the rainbow
Yes, cry, "Morning!",
     a new day is dawning
Wake up, scratching and yawning
     but wake up...