Morning

It rises up out of the water,
Tall and looming
Barely there in the concealing mist 
Of daybreak.
Somewhere, a horn sounds
Loud and short
It cuts through the still, foggy morning
Like a knife through whipped cream.
The bridge stands
Still 
Cold
Daunting
Safe
As air fills my lungs
Just as it fills the new day:
Sharp, seeping
Like an icy waterfall
My eyes sting
Looking out on the deep water
Fog sweeps through the world as the morning music starts,
And I shiver.
Morning has a meaning
No one will ever know