September Mist
Sept 18 2022
In the headlamp's diffuse glare
the heavy fog
became impenetrable.
Where all I could see
were tiny drops of mist
dancing in the light
right before my eyes;
like molecules
in Brownian motion.
So I navigated blind;
no illumination,
just the vague outline of trees
on either side
against an overcast sky,
and the wet country road
a slightly lighter opening.
A warm September night
that should have been crisp and cool
was as muggy as a clammy hug
from a plump maiden aunt
smothered in perfume.
The pea soup fog
muffled sound,
and my world shrunk
to the murky nimbus
that clung within inches of me.
It was claustrophobic
but also comforting.
Because the world is too big
too loud
too real,
while this seemed magical;
a warm embrace
exempt from time and space
and somehow effortless.
So I walked,
levitating over the empty road
like the tiny perfect spheres
that enclosed me,
dancing weightlessly
on the saturated air
that filled the deepening dark.
No comments:
Post a Comment