Amoeblog

STILL IN THIS MORNING FOG

in the foothills at the crack of day

This morning,
dawdling
in its tracks
in the wet
dust,
the fog
fingered
the mist
as the scapegoat
alongside
its cohort,
the westerly breeze,
as the petty thieves
who stole
away with the
neighbors.
Fog always
seems to have an
alibi.
Posted by Whitmore on March 30, 2008 at 06:27pm | Post a Comment

THIS MORNING IN THE FOG

sunday in the foothills at six-thirty a.m.

This morning in the fog
billowing
green fires smoldered
inside
the immense
drifting
ooze,
there was
no blaze
just dawn
lingering
as
dusk,
meanwhile,
I suspect
the fog
stole my newspaper.
Posted by Whitmore on March 30, 2008 at 05:39pm | Post a Comment