Tule Fog
Tule Fog
The mist hangs in the canyons,
like a whisper, like a prayer.
Like an ancient dark suggestion,
of something not quite there.
It’s a misty cauldron,
or the steam of dragon’s lair.
A secret incantation,
removing the despair.
It’s the “just add this”in H2O,
and the “freeze” in frozen snow.
It’s the “way too much” in drowning,
and the “not enough” in glow.
It can float on waves of warmth,
rising halfway from the clay.
It will promise up renewal,
in a shroud of liquid spray.
It’s as old as Earth itself,
and responsible for life.
It cuts the dry boned land
in half, with its liquid knife.
It’s always been around here,
but it’s too moody to appear.
Vanished like forgotten love,
but remembered when it’s near.
By Edlynn Nau
© November 28, 2018
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