Wednesday, January 17, 2018

Fog

Whenever I see fog, it reminds me of my mom. When we were kids, she wrote up and posted the poem "Fog," by Carl Sandburg. I think she put it on the frig but I can't remember for sure. I have a vague memory she put up other poems, too. I think she must have been trying to expose us to poetry. This is the one I remember.

Fog

The fog comes 
on little cat feet. 

It sits looking 
over harbor and city 
on silent haunches 
and then moves on.

Good poem. Good mom.


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