Fog
The winter fog in Georgia is
Nothing like the fog of San Francisco
Georgia fog is still quiet
Bare mildewed limbs of oak
Entangled becoming disembodied
The dank mist distorting our vision our
Thought
The Pacific fog is all motion soaring over
Hills swift caressing the peaks
Giving moisture to the thirsty ground cover
Uplifting unlike the mist that consumes settles
Depresses us into a cold
Lethargy here in the Old
South
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