Writing 201: Fog

The next poetry post is about fog. I often find fog inspiring, especially for more thoughtful posts, but I’m not entirely sure this lives up to the elegy form we’re supposed to be trying.
Misty Mourning

An owl hoots in the distance,
Its mournful song piercing the mist.
My heart beats in time
With its call,
Yearning for my love to be

Alas, ’twill never be,
For he roams the lands of night
For all time,
Carrying my heart,
My soul, and my peace
With him always.

The swirling mist soon hides
The owl, and his lonely song
Fades away,
But in my heart I hear it still,
A kindred soul tormented,
Like me, till the end of time.

(c) 2015. All rights reserved.

Photo 365 #199

This morning we paid a visit to my aunt’s church, where my cousin was playing with a trombone ensemble from Wartburg College.


They played some great tunes, and it was a fun time.  Band was by far my favorite thing about going to Wartburg.  And the afternoon only improved when we returned home, put the boys down for naps, and marathoned season four of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

I love lazy Sundays.  How did you spend yours?

(c) 2015.  All rights reserved.