Autumn Mist

At breakfast, autumn mist
lays on the grass,
monochrome,
creeps in the open window,
tinged with the breath of winter.
Shape-shifting trees emerge
as the morning wanes.
By two
there is a glimmer
yellow, warming,
the break-through.
At first just a glow
and then a gleam,
like a teasing memory
to be grasped
before it slips away.
Leaves, little beacons of light
amber, red and gold.
Another autumn afternoon
unfolds.