Fog As Visible Dreams
Mysteries flicker under each tender eyelid.
Become mist. Pass through walls.
Crowd the street, stories in symbol
lingering over a neighborhood asleep.
Houses and mailboxes
walk toward my headlights,
ghosts stepping into form.
I see each thing clearly
only as it passes by.
Laura Grace Weldon
Originally published in Shot Glass Journal. Find more poems in my collection, Tending.
Laura Grace Weldon 
beautiful truth, my favorite kind.
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Lovely poem, Laura!This image: Houses and mailboxes / walk toward my headlights . . . Wow!
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Thank you Susan. Far greater thanks for all the poetry goodness you offer through Little Pocket Poetry. I urge others to check it out at littlepocketpoetry.org
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So wonderful 🙂 I really loved reading this. And the first photograph is magical.
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as you know I am drawn to things visible that are often invisible and invisible things that dream to be seen – I love your poem
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