Written
1993
The cold Fog is after me.
He rules the night.
He creeps in and around every corner.
Even to my door.
But the warm fire crowds Him out.
It keeps the Fog's cold breath from me.
Fog and I have an agreement.
He controls the tulle.
I, the hearth.
Fog devils the cats.
Their fur is wet.
They know the silent loneliness
and retreat from the white prison.
Together we chose the hearth
and share our hate of Fog.
Short days, long Fog
It is Darknes time
Notes
I wrote several on this topic/