In a Fog



	Viewed through the skeins of a cloud
	this sun appears flat
	    not fiery
	    almost the color of milk
	and the landscape
	seems two-dimensional
	like the backdrop on a stage


	
	The soul of the world at large
	preying, its tentacles 
	claim cattle and trees, streams
	and bridges



	Sometimes you see the bottom
	of a fog, and the three feet
	between earth and sky
	beckon

	Sometimes you only see are hints
	before it mutes
	the ground

	where you've been


	    who you were