This particular mist is more than merely
droplets of suspended water; more than
even the master-poet’s finest metaphor.
Today’s fog is the ultimate maze
from which there will be no escape;
a cloud which will never surrender to
alleged sunrises beyond invisible hills
or tentative breezes across landscapes
unencumbered by leaf, petal, or stem.
Movement through this morning’s air
requires more than simple force of will.
Nothing, truly trapped, can even tremble.
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dVerse Poets pub
~ Open Link Night #279 ~
———[||]———
Scrambled, Not Fried 
I love the idea of fog as ‘the ultimate maze,’ Ron 🙂 thank you so much for joining us at dVerse Live event. It was lovely to have you. 💝
A marvelous stream-of-consciousness piece. I’m getting used to meeting up with you for these OLN video chats. It heightens the fellowship immensely.
We had fog this morning but not this heavy:
Today’s fog is the ultimate maze
Thanks for joining us during the LIVE OLN. It was great hearing your voice.
It was such an honor hearing you read this, Ron. I was shook by the final line, but the one that remained in my head for the rest of the live poetry reading was this:
“more than
even the master-poet’s finest metaphor.”
Master-poet, for some reason, is a word/phrase that stuck with me. I have never heard it used before and it grabbed my attention instantly. A brilliantly written piece.
We’re talkin’ thick, baby. Like that mist creepy crawlies are waiting to pounce in. Good thing they are stuck in it 🙂
Some fog this is! You allude to ‘the master-poet’s finest metaphor’ and though you may have been inspired by the weather, there is certainly the undercurrent of deeper meaning here, and it is chilling.
We’ve had early morning mist and fog most of this week, so your poem resonated deeply with me, Ron. I love the different things fog can be: ‘droplets of suspended water’, a ‘master-poet’s finest metaphor’ and ‘the ultimate maze / from which there will be no escape’. Mist and fog are haunting, especially the thought of what’s hiding in them, and the muffled sounds behind them.
I like walking and seeing fog and mist over the river, but I’ve never experienced one like this. You have some great phrases here–“alleged sunrise” and the “ultimate maze” of a fog. That last line is chilling though, the stuff of horror.
I have experienced the kind of fog you so wonderfully describe … terrifying if one is driving. I remember having problems finding the side of the highway to pull off on, praying others didn’t choose my spot!
These days we all feel like L’ll Abner… with a Covid cloud over our head.
I liked this and it made me wonder if this fog could be a metaphor for COVID 19. This persistent illness seems to fit this description, “feels like Today’s fog is the ultimate maze.” Like dense fog, it is so difficult to navigate.
I don’t think this was your intention but I really found the idea intriguing.
Loved your reading of this Ron. Excellent piece. As I shared with you, it rang true for me, on another level, of the struggle dimensia. .
Lovely!
This was thick and more than soupy. well written. Saw “The Others” again last night, and then this poem. Glad I don’t have fog here this morning, at least I allegedly don’t see it.
https://tenor.com/view/the-others-crying-nicole-kidman-gif-11164786
This is fine in many ways and can be read in so many ways.
When lies become facts and fact becomes fiction, how can we know the truth?
How do we define our limitations?
Is the truth colored by our perception?
Is there life in what we leave behind?
How can one not be inspired by poetry such as this?