Night Fog


Can you feel her drawing near you
As your light begins to fade?
Can you see her reaching for you
That deadly noxious shade.

The night fog she’s a demon
Who’ll catch you unaware.
She’ll slip inside your dreamin’
To steal what’s buried there.

Do you think night fog will miss you
As she blankets all the world?
Do you think she might forgive you
Because your flag’s unfurled?

She’ll come on you in silence
At the closing of the day.
She’ll smile on you in silence
As she steals your life away

I wrote this poem forty-five years ago as I watched the fog settle in on the coast of Oregon. At the time, the words resonated deep within, but the meaning of those words eluded me. As the poem resurfaced from the depths of memory after all these years, I couldn’t help but wonder, why? Now, I think I know. The poem wasn’t written for that time, but for now. It isn’t talking to a single person, it is a warning to all of us everywhere. The nothing works anymore syndrome that seems to be hitting everywhere may simply be The Night Fog blanketing all the world.

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