Fog Is Not All Density

 Fog is not only density.

A blurred-out vision,perplexed, unsure,

hands groping toward the next living being,

makes us human in the fog.

A connection,

a voice that bursts yet somehow bleeds,

a spooky love appearing out of blue,

a croon, a touch unforeseen—a clue

rising through the brain’s soft haze,

the next unborn line breaking through

when the fog is finally gone.

Yet last time, our fleet,our honeymoon,

a mass cancellation of flights in fog

occurred that dead October.

I screamed and struck the coffee table,

as though the blow could turn you cold and blue.

We parted ways when fog grew bleak,

and nothing stayed but one long shriek.

7 December, 2025