Fog of Mid-Night

I watch the fog tremble in the breeze. Wisps caught in in hands, fingers twirling the minuscule droplets around the lamppost. The echos of early dawn vibrate under my glare.

(or it can be seen as a poem in this structure:)

I watch the fog tremble
in the breeze.
Wisps caught in hands,
fingers twirling the minuscule
droplets around the
lamppost.
The echos of early dawn
vibrate
under my glare.