Iron Mountain Fog - Poem by William Kruse
This fog comes,
not on “little cat’s feet”,
but with the stealthy stride
of a larger beast.
It drains away all color
and obscures familiar landmarks
and it leaves your spine aquiver
and its kiss upon your cheek.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You