The morning air is dry
And cool.
Gone is the oppressive humidity
The summer heat
The unwanted sweat baths.
There's dew on the grass
Low hanging Grey clouds,
Gently head south.
The air is crisp and clean
As the first rays
Appear in the east.
Manolo Del Toro.
10/25
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem