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.
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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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