The sun came up pink this morning
Pink with shoots of golden orange
Peeking through the branches

Shoots of light infiltrating the sky
Blindly pushing through
That fog that comes on crisp winter mornings

Looking down into the city
Hazy shapes are but towering shadows
Visible from the hills

I lift my eyes to the mountains
To see where I might find help
But these are not mountains
These enclosing building

Rather than rising sun reflecting from snow-covered peaks
Towers of concrete absorb the light
And leave darkness

And yet
The sun is still here
Rising pink
Pink with glowing golden orange