
The fog
covers the bridge
all around.
Above
the day blurs night.
Below
ships prowl slow
and uneasy lines.
Those
driving or walking
through
will remember
the cry
of the sky,
the sobs of
those tiny sirens
below
warning away,
warning away,
those who
come too close
to touching them
in this blindness-
long
after the light
has returned
and
their souls
have safely
reached the
other side.
Seeing a photo of a bridge in fog and reimagining the famous poem about fog by Carl Sandburg.
Fog
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
Image credit: Magda Chudzik.
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