Poems

The elegance of the mist

“All night the sound had

come back again,

and again falls

this quiet, persistent rain.”

-Robert Creeley, The Rain

 

There is a certain elegance in mist.

It is strange, making your world so very small.

All eyes can see are animated silhouettes.

Blurry shapes passing through the translucent wall of steam.

Light travels in shape of faded glows

The universe hides in the white mystery.

All is silent.

All is present.

All is gone.

 

 

In response to the one-word prompt : Elegance 

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2 Comments

  1. A lovely description. When I am in a mist I can feel gloriously alone.

    1. Thank you, KJ. I feel exactly the same way.

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