I wish you a cloudy morning

I think ahead to your journey into the sunrise. . .
I wish you a cloudy morning. . .
sweet curtains of mist riveted
to the smooth steel grey waters

they roll between the rosy fingers of morning
dipping into the wine dark sea
like the wing tip of a gull
turning above the water
splashing ever so slightly past the surface
like a sail sliding cross a piece of sky
whose droplets hold the last innumerable jewels of night

let us pick one of those, to adorn our love
even as the gaze of morning
forgets the existence of stars