Warm Air Above, Dew Point Below.

Watching fog's first veil rising timidly
From grassy paddock's patches
Sweeping surreptitiously around the shy valley,
I am reminded of smokers, sitting outside cafes
Trying to hide their guilty secrets
In awkward, downturned, downwind hands,
Novice gambler's hands.

I am reminded that the Milky Way
Once wafted over the Southern Cross
Before being stolen by city lights.

How I long to see smokers standing proud
Animated extroverted and oblivious
Shining social magnets, blazing,
....wherever shooting stars go