Let in the Fog
Open the windows let in the fog
let it mingle with the confusion inside
never mind we can't see or hear
there is no place to hide
words written or spoken
will leave a permanent imprint
a taste of bitterness on the tongue
a vague and greyish tint
open the door let in the fog
it's yearning for a friend
let it merge and take the chaos
maybe then we'll comprehend
the triggers that scream warning
like the gut felt recognition
of a well-known once loved scent
feedback van andere lezers
schitterend mooi Kilea ..
killea: many thanks, Ivo
some time ago I saw two swans swimming in the fog, they glide very peacefull through the water, beautiful like your poem!
killea: thank you Jan
indeed, let in the fog... mooi!
killea: many thanks, Liesje
killea: Thank you, Tessy
there is no place to hide...
killea: thank you Marc
killea: thank you lief love
My dear, jij bent toch begaafd +++++!!!!
killea: You are too generous, darling
I hate fog but love this poem.
killea: many thanks, Greta
a beauty June!! you keep amazing me, time after time
killea: Thank you so much, Jamal
just have to say that I love the last lines of this poem for scent-memories are very dear to me!!! I live by them - and I keep on smoking because otherwise they just would be too overwelming!
But must say the poem has a very sad ring to it, taking into account the 'once' in the last sentence. It has a ring to it that makes you think that scent now triggers different awckward memories.
Hope all's well with you (which I think is the case, since you've been writing less and been living more...;o)
killea: You know me so well, Dicky