The fog is an illusion—
A master of disguise,
Which hides the tangible
Before our very eyes.
But when the fog has lifted
Everything’s still there,
And the tangible
Only seemed to’ve disappeared.
In the early morning
Or late at night,
The fog descends
Upon various sites.
It gives an air of mystery
That has long prevailed.
Dangerously intriguing
Is the fog’s foggy veil.
© W.S.2009
Walterrean Salley
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-fog-13/
