This morning, the gray fog
snakes upward from the harbor
and the Strait of Juan de Fuca
to en-coil and squeeze the rain
out of the clouds above.
The snaking fog opens wide
and swallows the weakened clouds whole,
then retreats to a cedar filled valley
and curls into sleep
along a stony creek
until hunger stirs it again.
copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney
Makes me think of the fog in my own Appalachian valley. How our two disparate world are bound so fundamentally. Lovely.
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