What Evil Lurks in the Morning Fog?

I gazed at a swallowing mass, terrified that I, too, would be consumed.

Photo by Chris Lawton on Unsplash

The stilled sleep of fog beckons,
hazed anonymous images drift,
shapeless or shape-filled, vacant.
Does the shadow question?
In silence the mist waltzes,
in grace it consumes the surface
a rolling octopus of fog.



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Kevin Farran

Kevin Farran


Kamakura based writer, lover of Great Danes, vintage cars, good red wine, bonsai and the Bard