The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
i think that this poem is really a metiphor for how life is and functions. One day the perfect girl comes you hesitate the next thing you know she's gone. Also life in general you come from work and you go to get your daily dose od mcdonalds you swallow and you have a heart attack and die at age thirty two. Your life is gone just like the fog.
Such gentleness is in this little poem - images of fog creeping in, spreading silence over all, awe and mystery and peace. (For a lifetime, this has been my favorite poem.)
Awesome Poem! Anybody else agree?
Indeed I do Jonathan.
It is a prime example of less being quite enough.
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A lovely poem...
Carl Sandberg sounds like Colonel Sanders
A wonderful poem succinctly and beautifully written. Compelling imagery.
Back in my day fog came in on TIGER feet. Kids these days... Don know what a lamb is supposed to look like! It´s s´posed to be rough, and grumpy! You´d had to tame it ´fore you rode it ´round! Now see here you whippersnapper, you ain´ foolin´ me wit yo´ tumfoolry!
i agree with you, your mama. My grandparents said the fog always came in on 'big kitty feet', so it must have been on tiger feet.
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