Fog on Golden Gate

If you're quiet, you can hear fog talking.

It doesn't walk on cat feet as a poet previously indicated -as cats don't walk through the air or on water--and the language of its silence is literal.

However it does move, as an army moves.

During the day the fog messes with time, leaving a spot in the sky for the sky and a little hole in the sky for the sun.

So that it's never quite morning, afternoon or evening as far as fog's concerned, though it always makes a formal entry and right on time.

Looking at it roll up its sleeves and get to work, one is inclined to recall the feeling of trust one must have had as a small child in taking a mother or father's hand;and to realize now, if you're actually listening, that the trust was more squarely on the adult's shoulders than the child's.

And what of those thoughts, as a grown woman or man, that you need to change, that you must stop doing what you're doing and do something else?

Fog is what listens at night to your sleep and keeps dreaming that you'll hear something new.

Maybe if you're quiet late at night, deep meaningful voices will guide you into a harbor of light.