Too misty, too white. <br />Fog changes pelicans <br />Into prows of ships. <br />Slow, too slow to <br />Ignite red lights, <br />Switch gates down. <br />Listening, windows up... <br />No engines, no <br />Crackling radio. <br /> <br />Easy seagulls perch <br />Ramshackle wharves, <br />Eyeing pelicans <br />Moving pterodactyl-like <br />In time, in space <br />Over smooth water <br />Not jumped by mullet <br />Or Reds. <br /> <br />White receding, revealing <br />No outriggers on far <br />Horizon bend to <br />Boudreaux Canal. <br />A red and white cork <br />Zig-zags, t.v. blasts <br />A decongestant ad. <br />Fog chimneys into the <br />Air. <br />The mirror clears.<br /><br />elysabeth faslund<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fog-6/
