In The Fog Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

In the fog

Streets long, narrow, empty
Is morning

Making love in open
Rude sky is on earth
Having sex sounds turn breaths
That is fog

No trees but shadow of horror

Sharp robin on grass is spy
All ear for the sound; is alert
Head black,
Back a shade of grey to brown
(With some lines)
Chest is bronze; (gold in dark)
It’s a cat at fish pond

Worms like fish unaware,
Robin is a drill, jackhammer
Yellow beaks dig the earth
At instance, in no time

Signal’s wrong
There’s no worm

In distance parking lot
In blue and his shorts
There’s a man
Bearded, fuzzy hair
(Black-white)
Firm and strong
Crushes the used cans
(Of last night)

“Bravo”
I can’t help by saying and admire
By walking he’s healthy, he cleans and runs life.