The Fog

Posted: Nov 22, 2022 in Poems, Random thoughts, Writing

We are lost,
Each and every one of us,
Lost in a forest,
Swimming blindly in fog,
The mist encroaches on us,
Like the approach of a predator,
In the greyscale murk,
The compass spins in confusion,
Direction has become meaningless,

We’ll wander aimlessly,
Until the gloom lifts,
Lost spirits amidst the pines,
The dead trees dance in the periphery,
Shapes of things unknown pass by,
Souls equally as adrift,
We are all blind,
Mayhap we always have been,
Before and after the fog.

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Comments
  1. shauna says:

    Today was a clear day here, but some things have created a foggy feel this evening. One of my daughters is grieving the death of a foster child she worked with; not a usual thing for folks in social services work. I grieved frequently through my years in the Pediatric ICU (and Burn and Newborn ICU’s after that), but it’s harder to know what to say to help her through this situation. She had known the young person had a neurodegenerative disorder, but with the losses we have had in family and friends this year, this is another life in the mist that has wandered out of sight.

    • Osharlequin says:

      I am so sorry to hear about yours and your stepdaughters loss my friend. It’s never easy to know what to do for someone who has suffered such a wound. I’ll be thinking of you.

      The Oldschool Harlequin

  2. There is a sadness to the murk too. But knowing one is lost is a start perhaps…I hope anyways, my friend.

  3. Yes, not easy….but what good is easy 😊

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