An Alternate Reality

Archive for September, 2019

Fog

There is something about fog,
mysterious and intriguing,
the way it covers up
all manner of things
and then reveals them slowly
as if to give us time to make sense of it all.

There is something about fog,
quiet and peaceful,
the way it muffles sounds
in blankets of stillness
and then strangely distorts them
as if to make us listen more closely.

There is something about fog,
thick and moist,
the way it leaves its mark
in dew and dampness
and then disappears completely
as if to remind us to dry our own tears.

Missing Morning Glories

The leaves are green
but the vines are bare,
 
Something is missing.
 
I breathe and I move
and I do all my chores, but
 
Something is missing.
 
The vines seem so sad and empty,
as does my heart and my life.
 
Something is missing.
 
Why are there empty stems?
Where are the bright purple flowers of hope?
 
Something in my soul is lost and pines
for the missing morning glories.