December Fog

Winding over fast roads
through shrouded hills,
we see the familiar valley
disappear
under a white sea,

human confusion
dissolving
into pure cloud.

over frozen white roofs
beyond the veiled ridge
the dark disc rises.

Black dawn
breaks the long night

and spills dirty light
over the waking city.

In the twilight sky
shadow shapes
fly in V
over still trees,
looking for rest,

any place to touch
soft, giving ground
and call it
a nest.

poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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