Lost In The Mist Poem by Clara Potter Soloman

Lost In The Mist



The trees are dressed
In somber shades of gray,
Giving them an eerie look.

I can’t see past the dense mist
That hangs over the land,
Creating a secret place for you and me.

If you were here, that is.

Perhaps you got lost in the mist.

The early morning sun does absolutely nothing
To cut through this blanket of fog.

By the time night has fallen,
The clouds have started to cry.
Their tears dripping rhythmically against my window.
It reminds me of you softly tapping you fingers against it,
At the break of dawn.

The clouds sod and thrash,
Their sobs shaking the ground,
And their thrashing piercing through the mist;
In one white hot flash.

To be honest,
I am quite surprised you haven’t called yet.
That after days of angry hurt storms like these;
You haven’t called to check on me.

I’m okay, really.
I just miss you,
Especially on nights like these.

I pray for your arms around me,
Just so I know you are safe form the storm’s angry cries.

The trees are dressed
In somber shades of gray.

Maybe, just maybe.
You go lost in the mist.

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