Riding In Fog

Cool grey mists, hugging the land . . . Hiding the landscaped art, of the Master' hand. White eyed vehicle, search the road to see . . . Their bright light reflected, mirrored back at me. From out of the gloom, other eyes do appear . . . Growing in size, as they come near. Quick they come, and more quickly gone . . . They are but, a momentary companion. Hidden roadsigns, make known their display . . . Vigilant sentries, along the way. Ahead is our goal, so onward we press . . . Passing alone, in this shrouded caress. Finally home, we are greeted by wife, child, and family dog . . . Thankful once more, to have passed through the fog.