Mabh Savage
Words and the world passing by; how it sings to me; how I clamour back.
The Mist
Swirling shroud
A watery veil
Like tired eyes;
A crazed wail
Cracks through the cloud
Of foggy fear
The eyes alive
As shapes appear
Looming, lunging
Awkwardly
Towards a shuddering
Effigy
Of something that used
To be alive
Now lost in the mist
Struggling to survive
Tear off the shroud
Sunlight fries
The frazzling fog
The watery lies
Wail no more
A calm descends
Mist dissipates;
The shuddering ends.
Mabh Savage 