Farewells in the fog
the photo was taken during the 1999 total eclipse of the sun, but sort of fits the imagery
The leaves are changing their season,
leaving the trees standing still,
no longer sunborne...
"fare thee wells" in the fog
ring through the branches...
Oblivious but to (each our) own thoughts,
walking silently in the dark,
we only note
the fog wetting our hair.
besides the path, the trees collect
fog into drops that drip
onto the grass,
befriending the leaves
whirling down,
playing tag as children would.
In the distance, diffused by the fog,
a lone streetlight illuminates
path's ending, world beginning.
In exchange, we begin
to disitill words from fog's
moisture,
filling the silence,
touching quietly
the other's presence here, now.
As our feet take us along the path,
we enter the world again, knowing
that at home
tea and bed are waiting...
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Comments
A Nice Poem for a Misty Farewell. Lovely Verse. 🙂
Thank you, it was of the better evening strolls, indeed, good to unfold after a busy day at the office...
This is a lovely and thoughtful stroll of a poem John x
Yes, I am very pleasd the way the fog strolled into the poem. It is always a nice walk along the canal in the dark (no streetlights ther, for about 3/4 of a mile), but the fog indeed mystified things. We relaxed a lot after the day...
I remember this eclipse so well. Your poem took me right back there x
Yes, it was very special being there. We had arranged our summer holiday around the event (we were on the Belgian-French border east of and near Bouillon), but alas the clouds came in between (15 km further to the east they had a clear view - one of my nowadays collegues was at that spot at that time), though they created a doubly special effect, withnthis half sun getting half through the clouds...
Thanks for liking the stroll
What a wonderful poem! I can see, smell and feel,
like I am walking the path with you both. That says a lot.
I really like this, John. B
Thank you. For once the fog really was a friend (living in the area of former swamps and marshes, we can get very thick fogs that are no fun when driving). Now we saw the fog hanging between the trees and came to rest after a extremely strenous day at the ofice for me. My wife had had her own developmnts, so in the beginning we were really silent, just glad of the company, but needing to rehash the day for ourselves... Then my wife heard the dripping and we came back to the world. This is actually the very first time I am able to describe such an event/atmosphere for itself...
Beautiful poetry John.
Thanx, it turned out to be a magical evening stroll, that night, whereas I usually do not care much for fog (unless there are only a few strands over water, that is a beautiful dance)