In a better time and place . . . and with a nod to Carl Sandburg.

Country Fog

Fog rolling in off the hills

To this meadow where the mare and I

Have come to say our goodnights.

This is not the thin smoke of city fog

Creeping in on cats’ paws

But country fog that floods the senses,

Thick and wet as a waterfall.

The horse shies and runs before it,

Seeking her safety in the barn.


In the morning I will return

And sit her glistening back,

Hold her in my legs like a lover

As she swims in deep green dew

To the edge of those far dark hills

Where the fog will be waiting for us.

Poetry by countryfog
Read 456 times
Written on 2011-05-22 at 18:01

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Stan Cooper The PoetBay support member heart!
enjoyed this write immensely and particularly was taken
by this line "country fog that floods the senses"

xxx Stan

ngaio Beck
These words conjure up a thousand pictures.

Yes, fog or mist is not the same as smog. Like that horse.

Rob Graber
Effective contrast. What do city slickers know about fog? Back where I come from...

vladimir todor turmanev
Very graphic.Excellent imagery!