morning
01 Jan 1989 Leave a Comment
in poetry
the fog drifts up the mountain,
a slithering ghost scratching its toes
against the treetops. it sees the dawn,
lingers a moment,
and is gone.
01 Jan 1989 Leave a Comment
by Jeff Covey in poetry
the fog drifts up the mountain,
a slithering ghost scratching its toes
against the treetops. it sees the dawn,
lingers a moment,
and is gone.
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