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Walking in the Fog

This morning

right at daylight

I was walking in the fog.

The sort of fog that soaks your hair

that makes it seem you’re walking

through a glass of fat-free milk.

Reality,

as far as you can tell.

For in the fog

everything is different

not the way it is

in sunlight

or

in the dark

lit with stars

under the simpering moon.

Everything is different

walking in the fog.

The sunrise happens

then it disappears.

Light the color of fat-free milk

spills up across the sky.

The sun reappears,

like a brilliant aspirin tablet,

swallowed by the fog.