
The mist moves ’round like circling wolves.
They prowl just beyond sight.
The edge of thought holds them at bay.
I feel them still through this grey light.
The mist hangs heavy, pressing down.
A weight so light to bear.
Sound, dull yet sharp, comes from beyond.
Unreal and strange in this dank air.
The flock, close by, stand, in mixed greys.
Their forms nought but vague mounds.
Are they real or ghostly earth,
Living just in my minds bounds.
So evocative! I love the comparison of the mist to the wolves and also the last line.
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Thanks Kate!
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we have been having mist that surrounds like wolves, i had not thought of that till i wandered through you thoughts here…..i really like the image that briTake Care…You Matter…
Blessings
maryrose
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Thanks for reading Mary.
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it was my pleasure 🙂 You’re Welcome 🙂
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