MAY 7, 2018

Ode to Fog

“Infinitesimal

star,

you seemed

forever

buried

in metal, hidden,

your diabolic

fire”    – Neruda, from “Ode to the Atom”

 

Ode to Fog

Where do you come from

my foolish friend,

taking over

at night, when no one is looking,

the rolling lips

of the coming green

of valley

and the poor buds

just now seeing outside

of the tips of their limbs?

I never see you coming.

I am sent happy

all day by the showers

of sunlight

that serenade the gentians

purple beautiful

earth snakes that rise

like cobras,

as do I and all the others,

and the river

now passes by in its velvets,

the robin

spins its eyes

to the passers by,

for it is spring, alive!

And yet like an army

of darkness you come,

such evil in the sky.

I wonder if love

is night,

where the wanderings

of the light

fade into the soil

where seeds only tingle

and agitate?

Only you would know

such things,

fog,

thief of stars,

thief of planets,

thief of our understandings

of the past,

for I see fog

too in distant mornings

for the farmers

of the worlds of the past.

May wind

will blow you away,

as the earth shifts

in its subtle

seed

of blazing darkness