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

going.