Fog Prologue

not a cloud in sight
my eyes quiver in the sunlight
my limbs stay frozen try as I might

overcast blocks the sun rays
I need to survive today’s
murky waters as I graze
the world a perpetual haze

the birds sing a delightful tune
still — I lie here swoon
wishing for the moon to prune
the garden in which I loom
my feet find ground in the afternoon

the fog obscures my vision
it cloaks me devouring my ambition
despiteΒ my opposition
I’m not in the position
to be my own physician

I suffer alone in my garden overgrown

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