Fog ran aground
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Fog is rarely something silent.
It constantly whispers the vague.
Its quick to bring one to violence.
Its intent is to lead one a stray.
A shipwrecked cloud. Set and stranded.
A mist unable to stand.Alone in a haze and hollow.
It seeks the company of man.
A cloud nine run aground with a frown.
Hung up and tangled .In a landscape cobweb .
Lingering and wanting the suns rise.
Longing to rest with the dead.
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ty gregas for reading . and the comment .
Oh how I have missed you! Another good one! I absolutely loved it. Fog does have this mysteriousness to it, this creepiness, this aura of the dead.
Being from San Francisco I know a thing or two about fog...I much prefer the gentler, kinder " kitten's feet " of Sandberg, although a fog seeking violence appeals to my Jack the Ripper side...Good to see you writing again, my friend...Larry
Great hub. Very beautiful poem. I guess one could read into this one all kinds of ways. Voted up and interesting and i hope you enjoy my hubs as well!
great to see you writing about the wonders of the fog in a unique approach...
gregas Level 5 Commenter 3 months ago
Nice approach to the always alluring fog. Greg