The Lone Observer? - A Poem of Morning Skies.

The sky burned pink
above the Oqquirhs this morn,
telling me, along with aches
the body talks with,
more snow's coming.

Yet the chilly air
did not taste of moisture,
all that wrung out slowly
the last few days
by the inversion.

White clad mountains sat
under that salmon tinged vault,
a band nearly a handspan
above the valley's horizon,
touched with beauty.

Few see this sight,
or take that crucial moment,
to slow down, look around,
inhale a breath deep,
and just enjoy.

For most, the cold
means warming their cars up,
even against the current law
about idling that long,
for their comfort.

Somedays, I feel alone,
the only one enjoying such,
a tiny person amid masses
of rock and ice
that ring me.

Others, someone notes it,
speaks up about the beauty
and leaves me with hope
that not all suffer
blindness to nature.

As I sit here,
sipping coffee, the moment gone,
I wish for a camera,
to share that moment
and its serenity
with others.

12Jan2016 - A Peaceful and thoughtful Dyfedd Rex.

Inversion's Hallmark - A Poem of Weather and Environmental Concerns.

Came down the hill this morn,
looking towards the full moon oft,
and saw that evil calling card
telling me the Inversion's digging in.

Above the Coffee Roaster shop's roof
the smoke rose only twenty feet
then flattened out across the skyline
marking the boundary between air masses.

This is Winter's worst bit here,
that cold pooling in the valleys,
trapping in exhaust with the fogs
to make the foul smog shroud.

No longer do the mountains appear
in the distance for your enjoyment,
as that blanket of filth thickens
with the sun's move to West.

Even just blocks away veils form
along Salt Lakes broad main drags,
leaving one to wonder if snow
seeks to erase the world here.

At least, so far, the fog
has not spread into town much.
But that will come pretty soon,
as the pattern looks to hold.

Thin haze towards the foothill's slopes,
and that murky, brown gunk blocking
the middle distances speak a ton
about the air's bear trap hold.

Wonder if it's time again, friends,
to wander towards the bench tomorrow
and walk down slow with dawn
amid the veils of this city.

It will get worse later on,
and layers of air will form
like a smog triple deck sandwich
within the valley's wide, urban bowl.

Some hate it, even while enjoying
the slopes at the resorts above
being warmer than way down here,
when they sneak out for recreation.

Others complain about the air quality,
seek to limit the pollution sources.
Me, I just deal with it,
as another bad thing to survive...
...happy to wake up still alive.
17January2014 - A rather irked Dyfedd Rex, who almost thought his glasses were dirty, until others confirmed the Urban Haze is building.