Fog

Where I live

When the fog comes

The fog comes hard

Rolling in like an endless army

Clogging the sky

Blocking out the sun

Playing its silver symphonies

Across the hills

Trapping you inside

With all your fears

With all your doubts

Lost to the world

An imposed oblivion

Weightless and

Timeless

Until the fog clears

The sun shines

I am reconnected

To the world

To the vast network of humanity

Where I feel most alone.

©Stuart Buck

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