The Fog

September 27, 2011
By Holly McClarin BRONZE, Flower Mound, Texas
Holly McClarin BRONZE, Flower Mound, Texas
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Fog slunk in like slow disease
Through wind-whipped peaks and desert trees
To make its home in valleys low
And stay as long as it should please

From underneath no light did show
Yet from atop a holy glow
Taunting, lit the mountain tops
To shine where mortal man can’t go

Through tiny gaps the sunshine hops
But then the serene bubble pops
With passing time grows strong our fear
And every hour our hope drops

The shadow ventures back each year
To fill our heads with newfound drear
From high above the mountains peer
We pray the sky will soon be clear

The author's comments:
This poem was done in the style of Frost and was inspired by a picture of fog in a desert valley. The picture was very sunny and bright, but I thought about what the underside of the clouds must look like. I find fog to be very frightening because many scary things can hide in it, and it doesn’t let very much light through. I enjoyed the rhythm of this poem because it seems to read slower, which was perfect for crawling fog. My favorite line is the first one, because to compare the fog to disease adds a creepy element to something that is a natural occurrence.

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