it sneaks in like the morning fog
softens boundaries and blurs vision
the sun tries in vain to pierce its vapour
instead light refracts in an unending cycle
illuminating the enormity of empty space
walk in the mist
it varies intensity like a spring rain storm
sometimes a gentle mist damp but not drenched
until it changes its mind and forms drops
the size of loonies that flood pathways
and sound like gunfire on the window panes
splash in the puddles
it is constant like the ocean
always there and ever in a state of flux
arcs effected by the push and pull of celestial bodies
the wind elongate waves to create
skyscrapers of entranced destruction
stand on the shore
it is clever like the echo in a canyon
sounds bounce from rock bluff
to eagle’s nest to packed earth floor
impossible to pin point their exact origins
even with the keenest ears and widest eyes
steer clear of the edge
it is like a lonesome robin back too early
when winter isn’t yet finished
in the ice crusted mornings it darts
to and fro searching for insects that haven’t yet hatched
alone on a branch the grass the wire the wall the fence
the sky the house
but it’s not alone
it’s with you
Copyright Cheryl Folland 2020
Leave a Reply