Poetry

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The damp cloud came while sleeping last night
Answering no invitation it rests
Vaguely it lingers until it wants
Dissipating in time; we wait...

Questioning, why did it come?
Science answers.
But, why did it come?
In darkness; found romancers.

Loneliness stabs my heart when come
And truths hidden arise like fog
Here answers are, as I stand
Now knowing; as planned.

It comes to take like Grim Reaper
Lives unsuspecting; for this I shudder
And on a byway blanketed dew
The unsuspecting meets the cue

After it's claimed living possessions
Dissipating, evaporating it's gone
Sun rays shine through the dank cloud
And life continues as before

Until the veils shroud again
The circle rolls once begun
Then, the fog's web laced
But, until then; the river has embraced.


Author Notes
The news came last night. Two people, friends I admire are facing terminal illnesses. Working for many years with both, and hearing their prognosis, I couldn't help but to write The Fog as it is filled with my sadness for them...

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