The fog is not quite lifting
though the night has been dancing
far too long
and although the
sky is darkly misting
and the cold breeze makes me
shiver, shiver,
I can smile
and be ok
and pull my wool coat snug around my neck.

For yeah, the fog’s still drifting
and yeah the night’s trance
is coming on a little strong,
but my feet do a little dance upon the pavement
in the streetlamps’ orangish light
and my eyes burn with
truer song
and starlit dreams
even through the bitter night.