Andrew Hudgins

(22 April 1951 -- / Killeen, Texas)

In - Poem by Andrew Hudgins

When we first heard from blocks away
the fog truck's blustery roar,
we dropped our toys, leapt from our meals,
and scrambled out the door

into an evening briefly fuzzy.
We yearned to be transformed—
translated past confining flesh
to disembodied spirit. We swarmed

in thick smoke, taking human form
before we blurred again,
turned vague and then invisible,
in temporary heaven.

Freed of bodies by the fog,
we laughed, we sang, we shouted.
We were our voices, nothing else.
Voice was all we wanted.

The white clouds tumbled down our streets
pursued by spellbound children
who chased the most distorting clouds,
ecstatic in the poison.

Comments about In by Andrew Hudgins

  • Susan Williams (1/12/2016 4:13:00 PM)

    It haunts me now how we played in the mosquito fogger's wake- no one, not even parents thought of its possible harm. This poet captured the allure of that fog and that experience of being veiled in its mystery. (Report) Reply

    17 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Terry Craddock (5/16/2015 4:16:00 AM)

    Wonderful so original I loved it with a reflective passion.10+++ :) (Report) Reply

  • (3/16/2012 10:15:00 AM)

    This reminded me of Old England (not that I have ever been to England) it just had me picturing it.
    A very nice piece Andrew! ! Thankyou.

    (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Friday, March 16, 2012

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