Where The World Is Foggy – Early Morning Love Poem

Where The World Is Foggy
The cypress was bent
and shaped knowingly by
the wind swept
to leafy path.
I could hardly see you through the fog
so I let your voice talk me down.
The tide was low
and we walked so carefully
and spoke so softly
so close to eternity.
Of everything I remember,
at least this afternoon,
comes to my mind
your whisper calling me near.

Ellespeth

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