Morning Ghost

This morning fog enveloped the neighborhood, a thick soupy white that veneered my skin on my morning walk. Birds called from trees I could not see, and it seemed they were calling for lost friends. The corner streetlight appeared from the white, an ancient lantern, a ship lost at sea.


Peace...

Grace #24: Fog

Driving through backroads to Bethesda, fog lifted off the still reservoir, a massive ghost, rolled back to reveal forest tinged in ochre and gold, a mystery.

Peace...