The Mist
The burning mist
Cut by an icy sun
Marks the landscape
Old and opalescent
Milky translucence
Hiding the scars
Making me forget
It is tarmac
Upon which I tread
A black river
Leading to concrete caves
Angular and harsh
All is blanketed
Softened
And kind once more
Posted: Thursday, January 20th, 2011 @ 9:42 pm
Categories: Poems.
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