Mist

The poetry of mist is a magician in vaporous white cape. Who by sleight-of-hand hides an entire hillside, multiple treetops and telephone poles up capacious sleeves replacing known world with mystery. Mist-ery. Perhaps the words are related. I will look it up later. For now I wonder what will materialize when this faint cloth is whisked away. The hills we know and love, or perhaps a row of white rabbits in top hats.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: