A Fine Mist

A fine mist covers me

The topiary cower egregiously

While ancient trees bask in the shower

A voice calls out too loud 

I’ll be back in an hour more or less

Never to return to be the same

Head winds blow with power

On disseminating gigantic towers

Escaping what our minds need to see

A fine mist covers me

Hiding behind what I truly do believe

At what point am I free?

  Copyright 2024

by Bill Ferguson

All Rights Reserved