Fog Sonnet
January 2013

I wanted to walk around, hide in it.
I wanted to think I was somewhere else.
We saw it from our car as we crossed the
Ohio. It encroached the big old steam-
boats as they hugged the shore. The pines that lined 
the waterfront paths poked through like emerald 
church steeples. You could only see the tops 
of things. The whole city was caught between 
two grey skies; sudden symmetry. This must 
be life in the Pacific Northwest. My 
friend, who was driving, doesn’t like to walk. 
He pulled the car up to the water’s edge. 
Without any question, it crept over
the hood, then the roof. Then we disappeared.