Fog
Strikingly individualistic
Kicking up fuzzy thought
Stirring a beehive of memories
Against the rusted windows
Soft-purring, cuddlesome
The fog smothers passion-flames
And takes away the crackle
Of sun-drenched leaves
Leaving embers of once
In the crunching old bones
Striking the throbbing temple
Dramatic and pulsating
Presaging a nasty day ahead
Breathing down vaporously
On our optimistic mornings.
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