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Nov 2016
Fog
I see the sun in the trees
Fog riding the breeze
Drifting through the woods like a ghost
She never makes a noise
Always elegant with poise
But the sea she loves the most
The azure sparkling water
She caresses like a daughter
As she wanders on down the coast
Once she has her fill
Floats back up the hill
An ivory angelic host
I watched the fog this morning...
Written by
Mike Hack  Alaska
(Alaska)   
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