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Dense within the still air
drifts a fog so very fair
that, merely walking through it
gives a sense I once knew it.
Far off items hid so well.
Their relations hard to tell.
Though I wander there,
I could be most anywhere.
I walk where none can see.
It makes me feel quite free.
I prefer fog to air clear.
I’m quite unseen while here.

Ah, fog. A reckoning.
Soft fingers lift a’beckoning
to call the unwary
into the soft and fairy
depths of hiding mist,
to be touched as if kissed.
Then, gone again away.
The fog cannot long stay.


By The_Pip2

© 2019 The_Pip2 (All rights reserved)


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