THE FOG
The minute the fog laid its eyes on me
I knew I was lost
with its cold creeping seduction
and whispered breath
all guidance confused
and only the suspended tops
of what was grounded
could I see
confounded in a season of mystery.
The minute the fog laid its eyes on me
I knew I was lost
with its cold creeping seduction
and whispered breath
all guidance confused
and only the suspended tops
of what was grounded
could I see
confounded in a season of mystery.
the atmosphere you have conjured here in scant lines is amazing. coincidentally the poem i just posted attempts to summon much the same atmosphere, albeit a little darker. enjoyed reading this, when i started out i assumed it would be a long, macabre tale (which you write so well) but i really liked the fact it is so short and sweet. lovely.
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Lynn Hamilton
Wed 4th Nov 2015 14:05
Hi Ray
I agree with Stu and really enjoyed reading this. xx