A couple of days ago, the fog crept in so quickly and engulfed our little place. It seems eerie when this happens --totally surrounded in dense, moist whiteness. When I am surrounded in fog I always, ALWAYS think of this poem by Carl Sandburg. Do you know it?The Fog
- THE fog comes
- on little cat feet.
- It sits looking
- over harbor and city
- on silent haunches
- and then moves on.
But since we have no harbor or city here, I adapted his poem to fit our little place. I probably won't win any Pulitzer or anything, but it fits better.Palouse Fog
The fog creeps in
on padded cat feet.
It crouches looking
over valley and flat
on silent haunches it stays
and slowly, grudgingly creeps on.
on padded cat feet.
It crouches looking
over valley and flat
on silent haunches it stays
and slowly, grudgingly creeps on.
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4 comments:
I was reminded of that movie, "The Others". Ever seen it? Its a great spooky show.
No, I've never seen it. Going to watch Julie & Julia this weekend though.
Ooh, I want to come over and watch it with you! Can I just invite myself?
I love those shots...very nice.
Yes, PLEASE COME!!!!!
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