November PAD Chapbook Challenge 4

November PAD Chapbook Challenge

Day 4

The Fog

 

I woke up when
                        the morning seemed 

                                                       to be
asleep, 

           creeping in
                            my open window like a warning
of cold and damp, 

                           street lamps
                                              were rendered 

useless,
worthless 

              fireflies drowned in milk.
Still closed eyes, 

                         silk clothes still on,
I put my hand out 

                           to touch
                                        the chill, 

                           to feel
                                     the misty spill 

that on my fingers lingers,
                                      the way 

it sways the air.
                       The streets 

slept soundly,

shunning sunrise,
kept wrapping drowsily 

                                  tighter
                                            around them the 

                                                                     cloudy 

quilt 

       spread on the roads, 

                                      wound
between the houses, 

                               woven
into drives and alleys.
                                 And when 

                                                finally
the ethereal white sheet lifted

peeling 

           off, the city 

                             got up, 

                                       reeling,
and I
        knew the feeling.

___

inspired by the amazing poems of De Jackson 

http://whimsygizmo.wordpress.com/

 

and by Vladimir Mayakovsky