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Morning Mist

By John I. Blair

City towers thrust above the hazy day,
Sunlight glinting off countless windows.
Thousands of cars on the freeway
Flow endlessly, a mighty stream of steel.
Beside it the river bottoms hold
A scattering of shallow ponds
Whose warm water breathes
A shifting drift of fog into the air.
It glides across the road
So the two flows meet,
The one of metal
And the one of water drops.
Of course the metal wins the skirmish,
Disperses the mist to wistful wisps.
But given time the water will win,
Will eat away the metal,
Corrode it all to reddest rust
And wash it to the salty sea
Where it will repose long after
The tall and glassy towers
Have turned to less than dust.

2003 John I. Blair  

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Reader Comments

Name: Brooks Taylor Email:
Comment: Comforting thoughts for a lot of us, I believe.



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