#foghorn
The lighting from afar
Near sight of hope
Seeing an absurd vanity of believe
O thou Golden gate
Endearing truimph on fragmented victory
Loud low-pitches
Sending messages afloat miles
Upon glittering luster of waves
Telling the wind it's courage
Professing life on Sea
Corne de brume
Welcome aboard our feeryboat
Nov 20, 2020
Nov 20, 2020 at 7:10 AM UTC
There is a strangeness in fog
that is palpable
and perhaps it is the strangeness in me
which responds
It is no accident I know
that I was raised
where fog is legend
and so remains
a cloying fact of life
for coastal Sunny California
is coldly blanketed each morning
six months of every year
in chilly dampness
What once was familiar
now changed
hidden within soft billows
of clouds brought to earth
the monotonous drip
from the leaves of the trees
the eaves of the roof
the rocks on the hillsides . . .
stars and planets obscured
only the mysterious moon
peeks through the diaphanous veil
lighting her shroud from above
now moving
now shifting
a glimpse of . . . something
caught
only to disappear once more
deep within the flowing haze
Yet where others find in fog
a thing to fear
I find in it a pleasure
seldom found elsewhere
for me familiar comfort
in the heavy grey mist
enveloping me
as a blanket of spirit
or ancestors
And perhaps it is this
the others fear
for the spirits of fog
can be cunning and cruel
hiding dangers
from those unwary
or disrespectful
But I miss the fog
laying low upon the cliffs
turning ordinary landscape
into otherworldly and strange
I long for the lonely cries
of the foghorn at sea
and should the sea monster come
I pray it finds
the love it seeks
Cori MacNaughton
19Jan2007
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 7:53 PM UTC