| The Behaviour of Fog Winter blew in bullet-hard across the glacier-blue skies crystalline cloak looming Succumbing to the lash she wept through the gullies her heart in a sylvan wash dripping on the mirror-ponds forming shapes of grief Huddled-up forget-me-nots are shrouded in their titters they do not sense her colour instead recalling the behaviour of fog ~shalome � 2004 |