Grackle protests, his razor-sharp notes raised
against oppression of fog – unwelcome
wall imposing isolation, day hazed,
connections blurred, aspiration now numb –
quiet descends, even birds have succumbed.

(Written for Dark Side of the Moon’s 5-line poem Challenge: standard cinquain.)


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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

7 thoughts on “Fog”

  1. I particularly liked “imposing isolation” and “connections blurred.” I don’t get out every day, but this morning I was on the road and saw a train bursting forth from a field of fog. It fascinated me, made me wish I had both my camera and the time to stop and take a picture.

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  2. This is a tangible portrait of Fog … I truly feel the words ” unwelcome wall imposing isolation”. We have sunshine now, mid-day, following a foggy morning that was preceded by 2 foggy days. Something about not being able to see the usual distance feels very much like a wall.

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