I like fog, and the fog was pretty thick on Wednesday morning as I walked along Warren Avenue and Catamore Boulevard in East Providence yesterday morning.
It brought to mind the Carl Sandburg poem:
“The fog comes
It brought to mind the Carl Sandburg poem:
“The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.”
No comments:
Post a Comment