Into the Fog
Its veil that surrounds me,
Soft and secure,
In thin, sleepy wonder,
The world is obscure.
The thick air heralds thoughts
Of misty ship moorings
A sloop, gliding in to rest
On a cold winter’s morning.
Musings of a silvery wolf, half hidden,
Lonely and lost, she stands ‘gainst the cold
Howling, searching, for long lost brethren,
Her enchanting song longing, and eerie.
The wispy tendrils retreat,
Bringing new light and clarity,
A bird ventures out into the sky,
His silent glide peaceful, serene,
Divine.
This poem is about:
Me
Our world