deepundergroundpoetry.com

Fog

He emerges
ascending the flattened field  
in the rain  
cradling a rifle  
retreating  
in my passenger window.  
I turn back ahead to nothing.
Sunset breaks the blind fog,  
empty train whistle,  
hollow sound inside a bell.
Written by braggman (Steve Bragg)
Published | Edited 21st Jan 2012
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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