by Glenn Currier
This morning the plains are shrouded in a thick fog
and here I am right in the middle of it
drifting all around
looking for a buoy, a light, a sight or sound
so I’ll know I am somewhere
and not nowhere.
I wonder how many of us
are in their own foggy world
if the planet has little patches
hovering over our species
each of us wandering -
sometimes with great determination -
looking for a place, trying to see
somewhere firm in the shrouded sea
a place calm and silent to be
just for a minute or two or three.
Author's Note: Author’s Note: Inspired by Michael of HelloPoetry.com and his poem, Nirvana.
Posted on 01/18/2019
Copyright © 2019 Glenn Currier
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 01/22/19 at 05:42 PM|
It does feel/look pretty foggy out there in areas, Glenn. There is something about plains, flat areas, with fog that seems more foreboding than ocean or mountain climes where fogs are expected.