Hans Ostrom

Rookie - 142 Points (1954 / California)

Gothic Fog


He stepped outside
and rubbed the fog,
its pliant hide. What's
inside you? he asked.

No answer. Just muffled
rumblings. Suddenly
a woman's hand emerged,
caressed his cheek and neck.

'Come in, ' a female voice
said clearly. He entered
the fog. In there, faces floated
like unlit paper lanterns.

A chorus of moans arose.
He turned to escape, but
elsewhere had vanished.
He was inside the fog now.

He moaned.

Submitted: Saturday, September 21, 2013
Edited: Monday, September 23, 2013

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