View Poem by Garry Burdick

A solar noon, chillness and belated pea soup fog not wanted.
The warm sun seeking to attack the thick cloud like air around the pond.
The fog not knowing better, attempts an imitation solar eclipse
thinking to fool this village and it’s people.
Clown with us when we were young but no-more
with so much time to look back upon.
I do not want to trod upon the driven snow in front of the bench
so will stand in this chill and wish for the sun to win this game for me.
Rooting for this ball of fire is a habit that cannot be broken easily and
my Country Unit calls me with it’s silent song -
Come in and let the sun be, for the sun
will return to cheer and warm us all.
Allow the fog it’s time and note the beauty of it as the silent bench will.
Let the sun to rest and hide in the west and sleep and watch
the moon, for tomorrow it has more work too send the fog to swoon.
Garry Camp Burdick