Moments of mist

Today’s poems feature a natural phenomena that I find endlessly fascinating…mist. Forest mist is particularly evocative, I love it the water droplets hang like moments held in suspended animation.

Drawing back the mist
The mist disperses
revealing
the battle
between my dreams
and the monsters
that lurk
in the day light.

This next one is from my book, Harbour. It recalls a day when there was a thick sea fog hanging around most of the morning, and there truly was a Jehovah’s Witness standing with their pamphlets trying to save the souls of world weary commuters.

Mists of time  
The mist hangs easily in still air  
brining a cool relief that is  
not ambitious enough to form droplets.  
It wafts and floats  
softly making damp the JWs pamphlets  
dutifully displayed for commuters.  

The greyness softens the view  
making the sharp look smooth  
and the old appear new.  
Such a magical start to the day  
as we wait and wait:  
another Monday morning train delay. 

Fog is just overambitious mist created in different places and lasts longer. For anyone stumbling across this page years from now, it was written about coming out of one the pandemic related lockdowns that occurred during 2020 to 2022. Hopefully we now riding the last wave to a sunny day on the beach. Fingers crossed! Now for the poem:

When alert levels drop 
The day rolls by 
As the fogs rolls in 
Creating grey on grey splendour 
An almost solid vapour. 

The city continues to reawaken 
After months of forced rest 
More sirens and horns 
Queues and remorse 
Unfamiliar faces become known 
And voices now in IRL 
Lockdown Hashtag 
Iso in the bag. 

As the day rolls by 
And fog rolls in  
Filling my mind with  
Reality, magic and myth.
Photo by Ray Bilcliff on Pexels.com

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