Fog In Carmel
There, it was lying
Among the school boys' ankles,
Along the horizon of the blue,
clear water
Above the level of the concrete
curb,
On the narrow, packed
downtown street.
It had no scent,
For which your nose could
already sniff the salty air.
It had no direction,
Just swifting through the grey
sky...
But you imagine it leaves by
noon?
No.
It's eternally there
Along with the chill your pale
skin receives,
When you walk out your
cottage door.
Copyright © Emily Scott | Year Posted 2013
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