Fog (Of Smoke & Memories) Fog hangs sullen, shapeless, Stubborn pallid and breathless. Drifting insipid, to seep And infiltrate without invitation. Invading the air as smoke That cloaks and chokes, And hangs mournful Over the funeral pyre. Amorphous to remain but Consisting of memories; Held in every fluid droplet And every fleck of blackened ash. Until blown far by hurtful winds Those memories Scattered to dissolution
