LittleFieryOne

'Tis blurry, it is.

Tough to grab, tough to see.

Can't tell where it lines up.

I run towards it,

And it coats my eyes,

Until I flee in dismay.

And then I sit,

And then I cry,

And then I quit,

And then I sigh,

And then one day,

It comes back.

I catch a glimpse.

'Tis on the horizon.

I stand up to be seen,

And it flows around me.

I let it brush,

I let it fly,

And then I shush,

And then I sigh.

And thus,

I have settled within

Once again.