Perspective on Fog


Is sunlight's absence cause for your decampment?

Can dim Presidio moors not also stage great glories?

Summer's seekers lust for their surfeit of relaxation

As many follow fashion to flee our summer gloom

How does fog's soothing melancholy not ever entice

You from your quest for searing sunnier climes?

Mist sprinkles buds along the thirsty headlands

And embraces our empty battlements

Faithful sentries still listening above the fog horns

Resolute in duties begun eighty cold summers ago.

I continue my tryst with wintery summers

Which offer antidote to an aversion to clouds.

This enclave of shifting shrouded winds

Howling across Steinbeck's scrubland

Where merchant sailors finally find some rest

Beside a plaque placed to eschew our forgetting

Above the sea they tended for the good of nations

Like me, they listen for the wind that bears us home.


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