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The Fog At 1:08AM

It’s a little after 1 AM and
The fog outside is like ash soaking up
Blood
Shades of yellow everywhere
With the light dimmed so low
You can feel death in the silence

Birds are chirping ever so daintily

A glass of caramel bourbon
Soft
Ice to numb the coloration
I’ve never seen so many shades
Of yellow
The shadows are afraid to come out

I think about daylight
But it reminds me of the everyday
Contingencies, consistencies, and obligations
The hassle
Somehow I feel safe at night
Nestling in the bosom of happiness
And solitude

The air is thick and lukewarm
But I feel cold inside

Jason,

I love fog, and your poem is very evocative, especially the first stanza. I don't know enough about poetry to comment on the technical merits, but the imagery you use sure creates a mood, and quite an ambivalent one.

Thanks,

Diane

i agree this is a very evocative piece. i could feel it. it improved allot on second reading, but poetry can be like that.
i like the playful imagery 'A glass of caramel bourbon' in it's somber surroundings.

thank you, to both of you.