December fog

The white fog is swirling about me
taking shapeshifting forms.
The compression of the troubled world
makes it thicker .
Ghost flow from my lungs
They hurry to hide in the white mist.
Beautiful shapeshifting specters
melt into the white fog.
I live here between the earth and sky
Where visions are all grey and white
And all the people have vanished.
The silence is louder
and even in the impenetrable fog
the world becomes simpler
And the solution to all my problems
seems clearer.