Let's assume

I don't understand how dew
comes about, but it does. It is there
by the time I go out. I assume
that the mist of night decoheres
into drops from evaporate state
as the morning nears. I assume
no motive for this. It could be
a physical yearning
for surfaces, and grass
spreads its surfaces wide
to collect and cohere all the vapors
that pass. So it ends up atop,
and occasionally underside
as well. There is dew.
I don't need to ask. We don't
need Netflix documentaries on this.
Let's assume that the mist
loves the blades as they cut,
almost motionless through
the night air, 'til the water's
seduced and brought low
like a drink
to a cup.

Oh, you knew it would always
be there. When you get up
that early? It's hard
not to care.

You assume
that your feet
will be wet, walking out. Well, what
has drawn you to the lawn?

Same thing
as has drawn the dew,
no doubt.