The Fall Line
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Fog

 

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On Fog


On those mornings, I wake to find a reimagined world,
familiar places draped in sheer veils of white air
made visible, touchable the air, immediate and present.
The fog sets a place for calm.
subtracting color
scattering diluted light 
slowing time.

Indistinct shapes in shades of grey
blend in surrender to the mist, 
bathe in its innocent liquescence.
In the distance, faint memories fade into oblivion.

In a race against the sun’s inevitable burn,
I wade into the fog, careful not to splash the stillness.



Photo: Artspace Gallery 2018

 

© 2018 Jere Kittle