Thirteen degree’s, the thermometer reads

Cool by any measure, though the Sun spoke hot

with cold air over hot water

turning into a foggy steam.

 

In the background, children spoke gibberish to their mothers while the mothers spoke gibberish in reply

While that fog, that damn fog, silent for most spoke way too loud

for me…

 

On and on and on…Yackity yack and blah, blah, blah,

had no choice though, had to listen, have to listen

to everything.

 

Adults speaking about skiing and work

Children laughing thinking of play

And still, that damn fog screamed.

 

High above, a Raven laughed while the near distance rambled the Geese

and finally, the  volume of the fog decreased

replaced with the sounds of two crickets gossiping as the sun set, there under the fence

warm, secure, surrounded by snow, and safe.

 

Soon, a frog croaked vying for attention until those little birds hopping around looking for something soft to eat… Sang! Sang so loud it was as if they were trying to compete.

In darkness, the minds of men, woman, child were pushed away, replaced with the caress of fog, now silent, and filling me with peace.

Softly with gentle murmurs the muse once again filled the void, a void vast

and deep

the story written instantly and greatly inspiring

me…

 

A new book to write, another story, one in a world where only a writer can dare

to be free.