Foggy Day

by Phyllis Beebe

Haze hanging in the tree tops
The streetlights still are on.
It's 9:30 in the morning,
Where has the sunshine gone?
The air is full of marshy smells,
The birds don't chirp or peep.
Nostalgia, heavy as the fog,
Almost makes me weep
Remembering from childhood days
When life was oh, so great,
Watching wisps of smoke-like fog
Lift off a glass-smooth lake.