Fog

A semi-short poem about fog

The smoky white wall
Presses towards the mainland-
Long fingers of pearly white fog
Reach over the hilltops.
Silent and slow,
Foreboding and dangerous.
The fog swallows everything in its path,
Dripping down the evergreens
And rolling over the ground.
Pearls of vapor curl down the sloping earth.
Coating everything in a layer of white clouds
A veil that droops over the trees.
Shrouding the landscape in mystery.

Screams and howls erupt from the pea soup
Magnified by the fog,
Surrounding you with terror.
Looking left, looking right
But nothing is in sight.
Panic wells up in your throat,
As you feel the hungry gaze
Of something-something behind you.
Enveloped by the white mist.
Looming shadows
Slither out of the smog.
Deformed and misshapen
Something made out of nightmares.
The cold breath of a monster,
Brushes against the back of your neck.
You turn, but there’s
Nothing-nothing in sight.
But you know,
In the back of your mind,
Through the mist and the fog-
You are being watched.