ivor or ivor.e hogg
Racial Memories: Perhaps
A thick fog lies along the shore.
Much denser than I've seen before.
It seems somehow unnatural.
Far different from the usual.
Fog banks which we see frequently.
It seemed to spring up suddenly.
Too suddenly for it to be
Conforming with normality.
I watch it apprehensively
I feel some how it threatens me.
I can remember all too well.
The tale the local legends tell.
Of the great fog which stole away
Whole villages or so they say.
Though local legends tend to be
Less accurate than history.
Folk memories are based on truth.
Although there is no written proof
That does not mean they can't be true.
That's why they persist as they do
That I'm afraid I can't deny
Although I am not certain why.
I half believe the tales are true
And wonder if the fog can do
What legends say it's done before.
Perhaps it has returned for more.
I think it's time for me to go.
I do not really want to know.
What will happen if should stay
My instinct is to run away.
To climb into my car and drive
My only aim is to survive.
I realise I have been dreaming.
I can see the street lights gleaming.
And that things are as they ought to be.
My mind's been playing tricks on me.
I'm safe and warm in my armchair.
Although my mind has been elsewhere.
Concocting fear filled fantasies
From half remembered memories.
Thursday,13 September 2012.
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