Fog Poem by Boris Barron

I walk my dog
one morning one day
with nuthing too see
but an old mist of grey
this frozen rude feeling
that runs up my back
gives me a weird insenct
to take off my hat
my hat now is wet
and looks really creepy
I can't see my legs, my dog it is creepy
I wonder what happened
have I just turned blind
but as I come in
my eyes common back
I can see colors and
people and other things too
ad I honor my eyes for all they will do
I will never forget what happened that fog
my arms and my feet really felt wet all the long