Fog

Fog The fog lies deep, Deep as a whisper, On Sengekontacket pond, The far shore only a Charcoal smudge Engulfed in smoky gray. At left, the scrubby dunes Hunch dark along the road. The sea beyond blends Seamlessly into the void, Where tolls the warning Of a passing, phantom ship. Then, ahead, out of the mist, A pair of yellow eyes! And a dark and formless beast Slips by me on the road, silently, Disappearing, winking red In my rear view mirror. When I reach the little bridge, Suddenly the air is clear! No trace of fog or misty trees Or passing, ghostly ships! Without a thought, I turn And head back whence I came! I stop along the sandy road, Take up my steaming cup, And scramble through the dunes. I sit, heedless of the damp sand, Sip my morning coffee, And listen - listen to the silence.