4.24.18

On my way home I watch the water;

The rain patters against the shore,

And a grey-blue haze erupts,

Like a heavy-set cloud seeking friends.

Quickly the creature engulfs the land,

Consuming buildings which fade

As if towering to heaven,

And dismembering trees

To branchless stumps

Inconsiderately cut too high up.

The spot before me

Is my only source of truth

And trust.

The fog:

Deceptive, yet mesmerizing–

In the attempt to recover from

A missed step

I realize I’ve already fallen

Too far.

I stare up into the sky,

Surrendering–

Heavy eyed and sleepy;

The fog settles over me.