Zen and the art of fog

the physics
of sound in fog;
a sense of muffling

today, my skin doesn’t fit
and the air is rubbing me
the wrong way

I feel a willful nonchalance
about time and direction
-a relief after chasing them so long

a settling of hums in the trees
as we forget flight awhile
and look to what makes a home

not knowing where to go
or who to be or what to do next
is a sixth dimension problem

at the end of things
-if there are endings-
we are One in the Fog


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