The Swirling Mist

The breeze twitches a loose curl,
kissing the brooks as they purl.
I hear the whisper in my ear -
the message becoming clear:
Obligations around me furl.

It gathers from nowhere.
I want to escape from there.
It sodden the leaves underfoot.
Dusk is falling like soot.
The mist cocoons me here.

Softly it kisses my cheek.
The visibility becoming week.
The swirling mist my protector:
The shifting position vector.
My disposition infernally meek.
© 2012 Suzette Crous

poem by Suzette Crous
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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