Accidental Morning

The mist coils, swirls, and tatters,

smoke on early waters,

  in accidental morning,

    a dog barks - grey and dim,

Hung low above the streetlight,

  the moon is crescent red.

Slow, clouded by the passing,

of accidental morning,

  a footprint, caught in concrete,

    a shadow, lost from night,

The crescent moon is waning,

  and the dog barks - grey and dim.