Like Fog Creeping

A discarded couch, cast out upon a sidewalk - that once night had fallen -

became a bed to a man 
without a home. 

A woman 

Stopped 

by a stoplight

Crying in her car. 

Petulant dark and light keys,

painfully pressed,

by somber saccharine fingers. 

The damp breath of a finely aged fear hangs around my neck 
like a musty scarf -

Like fog creeping,
seeking shelter amongst trees -

a struggle toward sleep.

Women with lips drawn like bows -

Enchantresses beguiling like sirens -

Inside their mouths hidden 

Tempestuous tongues dancing, 

Damning.

Maladies and manias fill our days,

Love and loss - 

our weeks -

Change and remembrance: years

Our lives; searching for solace from fear. 

seeking shelter amongst the trees.