The Heavy Fog Through Black Mountain


Dazed and without sleep,
Softly pushing at my window
I see.
The heavy fog, roll into the valley.
The Desert, the Meadows.
Strange and slithering 
over the black top freeways.
Hills now hidden and clouds submerged.
This new world through rough specs 
Of the western storm sending its mist



A very charming poem, I must admit my ignorance of the location of Black Mt, but it does not diminish the poem in any way. The slithering Meadows over "the black top freeways", very Prufrockian imager, very beautiful. I am curious by the third line, you have chosen to place a period after "I see", but I think the line would be better if you placed the period following "at my window" instead of making "I see" an enjambment, I like the fragmentary nature of the piece, but I feel as though you wanted to say more after "sending its mist" (sending it where, to whom, etc.). Overall a lovely piece. Q.V.

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