The fog rolls in billowing breasts open buttons undone
searching for those little crevices to hide
bringing the chill sensation of a long sad winter
copying the slow warmth of duvets
and dreams woven in magic.
The fog will lift again someday and fly
into wide open spaces of freedom
testing the air for strength
climbing high over despondency
and solitude to a near heavenly spiral
where waits redemption.
dont let the darkness make you lonely
capture the light from the clouds
and spread the white light symbolism
into all your being until complete.
Let the fog pass.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (The Fog by Marshall Gass )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
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