Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Of a Mind for Fog

No cat feet today.  

First the land wore fog like a muffler, loosely knotted at the throat.

Then it cleared and re-appeared in wraiths of this and not this.

Finally, it frosted high tree and needle, washing across University Avenue near the golf course along the plateau's rim, on slow-wafting waves of exhalation.

Curious to know if it persists, I just opened the kitchen door and shot this. 



Across the woods a streetlamp; before me fog, puffing and splotching like fading, haunting memory.

A good day and good night for staying in, reading.

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