Amy Clampitt

(15 June 1920 - 10 September 1994 / New Providence, Iowa)

Fog - Poem by Amy Clampitt

A vagueness comes over everything,
as though proving color and contour
alike dispensable: the lighthouse
extinct, the islands' spruce-tips
drunk up like milk in the
universal emulsion; houses
reverting into the lost
and forgotten; granite
subsumed, a rumor
in a mumble of ocean.
definition, however, has not been
totally banished: hanging
tassel by tassel, panicled
foxtail and needlegrass,
dropseed, furred hawkweed,
and last season's rose-hips
are vested in silenced
chimes of the finest,
clearest sea-crystal.
opens up rooms, a showcase
for the hueless moonflower
corolla, as Georgia
O'Keefe might have seen it,
of foghorns; the nodding
campanula of bell buoys;
the ticking, linear
filigree of bird voices.

Comments about Fog by Amy Clampitt

  • Gold Star - 15,816 Points Ramesh T A (9/25/2015 11:38:00 PM)

    Nice vagueness of the fog in the Winter is depicted here! (Report) Reply

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  • Gold Star - 12,375 Points Douglas Scotney (9/25/2015 6:38:00 PM)

    Fine sifting, and on the very morning I read about fog in the law-courts in Bleak House. (Report) Reply

  • Gold Star - 46,883 Points Edward Kofi Louis (9/25/2015 4:32:00 AM)

    For the hueless moonflower of love. Nice piece. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: ocean, rose, fog, lost, sea, house

Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

Poem Edited: Wednesday, March 14, 2012

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