Friday, May 5, 2017

"The fog upon the ground"

The mist is swirling just above the ground
All thought is lost along with loss of sound
The muffling of the distant roars a blessing
As surf and tread assail the sense, less pressing
The life that scurries there beneath the fog
Acts as surrogate for analogue
The swirling of the shading veil beguiles
As life goes on with many endless trials

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© 2016 whickwithy


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