fog settles in like an old friend
like a shoe well worn..comfortable
like a thick moist, milky grey blanket
covering everything in chilly dampness
the tug boats push slowly forward
trying to slice open a path
using their lights as knives
moving painstakingly
the mist begrudging them passage
the tugs speak to each other
in the octaves that suit their size
letting go their horns loudly
a higher pitched trumpet
a lower pitched bassoon
the night presents itself
like the backdrop on a grand stage
inky black velvet deep and dark
where shadows no longer reside
as the dense thickness of fog
gives way to no purchase
to any living being pulled in
by its’ unseeing arms and hands
or any inanimate object
as here only sound transcends
© January 2015
Renee Espriu
Image Taken From Morgue File
reneejustturtleflight.com 