Moment volé (Stolen Moment)

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Moment volé (Stolen Moment)

Calmness settles upon me
amongst the tendrils of the fog.
The cool moisture beads atop my skin,
cleansing the soul within.
A lone tree stands sentinel
to guard my instance of vulnerability.
A soft greyness cocoons me
from a constantly shifting world scant inches away.
Vague forms bustle by
as I languish in my nature-made cloak of invisibility.
Quietly enjoying the reprieve
from my socially-acceptable persona.
I turn the mask slowly
and watch its bright, gold reflection dancing in the air.
Knowing, inside, my soul
mirrors the soft, gentle grey of the fog.
Reprieve at an end,
I don my gilded mask and reemerge into the world once again.

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