Daybreak quire

You zoom into hazy veils
through a wall of wafting waterdrops
floating by, you stay dry
due to the lightness of the ply.

Swoosh, it seems to echo
although no sound does chime
it's just the feeling it should twang
but this cleavage never sang.

Then of cause, big applause,
distant heron whoop and a rigid ribbit quire.
The quiet decants warily
in the daybreak of a mire.