Fog
As I walk along the coastal road, to the neighbouring bay,
A curtain of thick fog suddenly comes swirling my way.
Through the dense haze, I can spot the odd car headlight,
But everything else is now completely hidden from sight.
With my journey, I decide it isn’t wise to carry on,
As my sense of direction has now completely gone.
I begin to retrace my footsteps back towards the town,
Unable to believe how quickly the fog has come down.
With familiar sights now totally obscured from view,
I feel a little bit lost, and, I admit, a little anxious too.
All around me, there is a dense veil of consuming whiteness,
But it is tinged with a gloomy grey, so there is no brightness.
I spotted the fog earlier, obscuring the nearby hilltops,
But, I carried on, assuming that’s where it would stop.
But the fog came tumbling down, on to the land below;
There wasn’t any nook or cranny, where the fog didn’t go.
As I walk through the fog, I feel cold and get very wet,
But, unfortunately for me, I have a mile or so to go yet.
A seafront shelter, which I passed earlier, looms up ahead;
From this point, there aren’t too many more steps to tread.
As quickly as it came, the thick fog begins to roll away,
Leaving, in its wake, a, fairly decent, midsummer’s day.
Back within the boundary of the town, I feel safe at last,
And feel glad that the thick fog, has now drifted on past.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Added by Poetry Lover
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