Summer of Poetry: Untitled Poem 1

My soul is poisoned

like tule fog

rolling into the valley,

flowing

from the emptied slough

and swallowing us whole.

A bright

swift cloud

low and rolling

like the bobcats

that roam the foothills

looking for smaller prey.

The cold

endless grey

unyielding

pressing against

every space

until the world

disappears

and you are abandoned within.

It's easy to lose yourself in the fog.

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