Autumn at Work

Genre: Poetry

From the 11th floor where I work
you cannot see the river

You can see the morning mist rising from it, though

Along a barely visible split that meanders 
between the patchwork trees of the forest preserve: 
red, gold, green, brown

Before the day officially starts
you can stand at the picture window
high up off the ground
and watch the mist gather up its blanket 
returning to the atmosphere
leaving the unseen river bare 
to push