a compote / a Monday morning

I saw the City in the morning
blending with the fog.

first the sun, then rooftops,
then the man that walking
haughty with his dog.

a stray cat, a policeman and a laughing prostitute.
the windows with the people peeking
then the fog ate dirt

from the noisy streets, next was the bus stop,
then the yellow cab, a newsstand,
the girl with rainbow lollipop.

everything was melding inside enormous pot
then you came and ate this anomalous compote.