Fog
She creeps
across the fields,
along the empty
lanes,
beneath
the dripping trees
and the full
round,
smooth pebble
of darkness,
she waits,
hesitant,
on the edge
of the town
the street lights
flicker, blink,
fading under
the grey weight
of invisibility,
silence
greets her
and tiptoes,
as she walks
across the junction
the traffic lights
on red,
stop,
stare,
ignored
as she peers
through frosted
windows,
their blindness,
shuttered
temporarily,
running out
of hours,
reflecting her face
blank,
expressionless,
she moves on,
drifting,
in clouds
and luminosity,
pressing against
garden walls
tilted rooftops,
open gates,
and the iron railings
along the edge
of a sleeping city
park,
she weighs
and waits,
heavily,
sinking
into the dew laden
grass,
and above,
as the last stars
haunt the passing
night of sky
the sun,
stretches
seditiously
across
the thinning
blankness,
kissing the wind
lightly,
and caressing
the fog
to sleep.
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p1964km@googlemail.com
