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.