Fog
Boy,
There’s heavy fog tonight
It blends well with darkness —
The synergy between floating white cells, outside
Of our anatomy, and
Pulverized charcoal,
Thus wetting the greyness of
The breath of late November, cloudy and smoky.
With such picture, I can only think warmly of
Bridge over Troubled Water by Simon and Garfunkel.
The whole album.
Every song on it.
Best listening time is when New York City finally sleeps,
Cuddled by slow-racing, blinding fog.
Now, dew hastens to the face of the earth,
Masked by the veil of a harsh winter either
In front of us or behind us.
And that’s time for you —it comes and goes,
And still remains where it is and has always been.
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