Imprints - CF Literary and Arts Magazine

Imprints Colume 11 cover

Volume 11

Fog

This morning, the trees
have wreathed themselves
in a soft bridal veil.
They seem to whisper,
solemnly warning
that time has slipped back
a few centuries--
rumbling car engines
and Speed Limit 55 signs
are anachronisms.
Today, even the eager palm trees
bear a sphinx-like pose
of tarrying.

Somehow I yearn to forsake
my Escort lurching
back to the 21st Century
for standing. . .
waiting
with the trees.

Fog

Sarah Price