The Mist

Posted on Apr 16, 2013


Picture courtesy of

Picture courtesy of

The mist creeps up over the canal
covering the narrow-boats, wildlife as well
It slowly moves, gathering pace
growing in size, it gives chase

Its greedy mouth swallows whole
anything in its path it takes hold
Cold tendrils clasp all in its wake
its hunger ravenous in all it takes

People swallowed up, gone from view
the mist takes them and all else too
Sounds lost in it maddening embrace
this living thing without a face

All over the land it plays its game
across cities and towns, all the same
Fields and mountains it enjoys too
encompassing villages, no breakthrough

Superstition it created long ago
this creeping mist moves alone
Like wraiths of the dead it moves silently
causing mayhem, sometimes violently

A boy looks from his window at the mist
and wonders if ghosts inside do exist
As it moves towards his cottage, trapped
surrounding him, no escape, his will snapped

The mist subsides and goes whence it came
having its fill and moment of fame
For it is everlasting, immortal and free
has always been and always shall be

So next time you look out to the mist
look closely for something missed
Bolt the doors and close the windows
and watch for the mist that does glow

Posted in: Poetry