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By John I. Blair

Floating just above the ground,
Pervasive, evasive,
Fog dims lights, hushes sound,
Changes, rearranges
Familiar sights to strange,
Shifts, drifts,
Blurs the common,
Gifts it with grace,
Brushes new luster
On this dull place.
Fog helps me see with acuity
Past the crude face;
For, keenly viewed,
Everything’s a mist,
Intangible and unknowable.

©2003 John I. Blair

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