• andrew jeter

The Lifting Fog


Last night

one too many Irish coffees

& dithering about plans for

today


Sun rise,

deep fog in the trees

black brown red fingers pointing

into whiteness


<Plopping slaps of water

from the eves 

& a squirrel tenses

on the waiting cordwood>


This morning

we type read scan in silence

& then you say

Is it time for breakfast?


Thin milky white

glow retreats

between stretched trees

exposing deep forest

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