Fog

eerie fog comes creeping to the woods nudging its way to my consciousness leaving smoky kisses sweet caressed to skin and leaf inching in upon us like a weighted blanket intertwined amongst the woven air. Without a sound it draws us in swallows us whole as though a quiet python. A surging ocean of merging gray snapping, in an instant gone all woods and air engulfed at once in gulp of white. No longer are we separated bird to sky, fish to water, one upon our continent shadowed, silky-smooth and gliding copulations pinned and clinging to the air and trees. It pleases me to breathe. I haven’t felt my heartbeat for awhile too busy in my head with chores inherited from somewhere far outside this quiet place. I need a moment I take much more a lifetime gathering gasps of view such peaceful moments in my turmoil, few Before I was a poet all my eyes had feelings. My skin could see. when I looked upon these woods, they looked to me. Now, lost within this fog of life with woods, my friend, retreating meeting me a visitor en-cloaked invoking stillness, damp, and fear memory of our friendship far too distant me to hear. Tears I’ve spilled within this wood all come back to me my heart, although alone, not left alone to be. The fog inside these woods born, of late, inside of me.