Tag Archives: fog
Seen Through Fog
There’s a story behind Staten Island Ferry orange. I can’t tell it but can hear its tone revealed in a soothing voice- over through early morning fog. Routine commuting becomes heightened by the transcendent moments before the marathon begins on the … Continue reading
Whose Gingerbread
Do they remember months after the solstice? Who will speak for you tomorrow morning before strange fog clears? Tonight this parade answers no questions.
Filed under Morning Poems, Night Poems
The Smooth Mellow Pack
The color orange engulfs her in hazy dreams—appears as a sheer shawl to web her shoulders, a pair of lace-up long boots to hug her calves. It’s not the color she has to relinquish upon waking. Just the fog that … Continue reading
Filed under Overnight Poems
Shape Shift
Vital signs appear in all directions—here the universal symbol for no longer choking. The color blue has turned green as mature redwood leaves modest in their fog shroud. She remembers how to read them only when she steals a moment … Continue reading
Filed under Morning Poems
Ripplewood in the Redwoods
Across Highway One from where I slept, from where a hummingbird swept into the brush to alert me to another day, I wait. Fog never fully rolls back to reveal those mountaintops but allows the sun to be exposed and … Continue reading
Filed under Morning Poems
