But traces in quiet fog:
ridgeline of the barn roof,
cold parts of the corral
float in and out of gray
closing in upon our fire—
forms of horses look
for hazy movement
in this fuzzy moment
shut away from hills
and towns beyond, the world
and its miseries. All
we have accomplished near
at hand, close to fading
into nothingness
and I am relieved
of the weight of urgency—
perfectly helpless
to change a thing.
drycrikjournal 
Great pic and a great description of how a thick fog dictates not only what we can see of our world but of our lives as well and what we will do . . . Love the line ‘and I am relieved // of the weight of urgency’ . . . You’re a terrific poet, John . . .
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Thank you, Peter. A fairly foggy day, Monday, set the stage.
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Wow, talk about an objective correlative. Another really good one, John. Many thanks.
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You’re welcome, Laurie, glad you like it — I’d forgotten what an objective correlative was.
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Well done.
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Thanks, Burl.
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Would love to live inside your mind for a day or two. Hey John, have you ever thought of trying your hand at poetry? Bet you’d be good at it. 🙂
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Don’t think there’s room enough for the two of us, Richard. Better I let little bits and pieces out, instead. Thanks, as always, for your comment.
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Very well done, a great BnW.
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Thank you and welcome to Dry Crik Journal. The photo was taken in January 2010, back when we used to get rain. The Great Western Divide beyond Dry Creek Canyon socked-in to about 1,500 feet. The contrasts seem to call for B & W.
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