Wednesday, March 24, 2010

an instance of recent fog

the train creeps slowly through the mist
obscured in cloud, its face emerges
advancing in the wake of twin lamps

a handful of commuters walk past
in brown and black coats
the color of fall leaves

the tracks disappear into the fog,
which is densely packed into this little valley
like cotton balls in a jar

where the edge of the valley drops further
away, it melts into the distance
behind the swathe of cloud, imposed
between here and the distant bank,
where bridges, buildings, and houses
sit unseen.

the fog rests low in the valley,
thick and undisturbed, on the river below.
easing along those waterways
like the ancient craft
that make their way along our shores.

on the streets
standing in tall columns,
amongst buildings,
airy architecture
butted against brick

it spirits away the outlines of objects
trees disappear into the distance
but light spills sharply out of reflections
in damp remnants of puddles, from sharp edges,
the highlight in the coil of wire.

it even steals my sure sense
of where we are all



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