Poems (Jordan)/A Foggy Morning
A FOGGY MORNING
The Sun's bright eye is spectacled in mist;Fog-horns hoot; gray hands on their lips make strangeThe voices of familiar noise, and ChangeHolds ev'rything in soundless space, abyssed.
Like spectres huge, dragging their dampened shrouds,Dim forms approach on silence-sandaled feet;Sepulchrally they one another greet,Then merge and vanish in terrestrial clouds.