The Eternal Fog

Reba, you are big now, much too big to enjoy the fog Sitting in different shapes of everything we fear When trust was only those we know. There is no log Of wood, or time the stories that I did share Was my own way of inventing happiness for me as well I was your griot and you my princess who Heard a poet told his pain like beads where fingers swell What matters except that we loved, we two And did not know after our tale the fog would still stay And the light would break in it and bleed pale Anemic rainbows, without promise in the ponds decay. We have better things to laugh about today I only wish the fog did not enthrall so, strong is the feeble sway.