The fog does not come
on little cat-feet here.

It flows down
the leeward side.

The foothills are lenient,
letting the fog rise,

summit, and then descend.
They do not struggle

with each other,
nor is it a dance.

If there is resistance,
it is natural.

No human word
does it justice.

/ / /

This poem was written in response to the prompt from Three Word Wednesday using fog, lenient, and struggle.

2 thoughts on “Bayside

  1. Oh, goodness, this was beautiful. I loved that opening line. And I love the idea of the foothills being lenient and allowing the fog to rise and fall. And in that rising and falling I hear the fog’s whispered sighs as I read your poem…not a struggle at all.


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