Ice Fog

Ice Fog

Solid air costumes all the trees
With wedding garb in still of day,
Draws icy fingers up swords of grass
Overtaking hollows and turned rows.
Wall of fog taunts with hidden hope
Hither come and find what might be.
Hidden just beyond its circled line
Wealth, romance, or fame must wait
For those who dare to enter in.
Closer, closer step, seeking ones,
The voice of frozen silk plights its troth
Promises dreams, but dreamers wake.
Envelopes of frigid fog give way
Illusions vanish in broad daylight
Trees dressed in melting tatters
Vigil keep for false fog-made love.

About suzanawylie

Suzana Wylie is the not-very-pseudo pseudonym of Susan Wylie Wilson, because let's face it, there are lots of Susan Wilsons around, and as an author, I want readers to find ME and not the bazillions of others. I've been writing all my life - since I learned to hold a pencil anyway - and can't NOT write. Other people have to breathe to live; I have to write.
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