The night train a mile south of here rattles down the rails.
The fog returns
clouds on the ground
thick earth ethereal
drawing itself to sit like a lady in long ball skirt
gathers her hemline then lets it fall wide and vast.
This makes the second haze past midnight I witness, the second night of a churning gut and busy mind – neither of which easily soothes or quiets.
The fog muffles yet intensifies everything. Cushion and couch, sleep graceful dew, and rest.