The Mist

The Mist

Slow and sly the summer
Slipped away last night,
Stealthily, perhaps ashamed
Of her abandonment.
A billion tiny teardrops clung together
Sliding through the looming wood to
Form a clustered diamond mob
They call themselves The Mist.

About the author

KatieK
30 Up Votes
Retired from career in criminal justice in 2009 due to ill health, trying to make the most of days when I feel reasonably well, qualified in hypnotherapy, Reiki & emotional/life coaching, I enjoy nature, conservation, gentle gardening, travel, (especially Cornwall), grandchildren, family, interior design, sea angling, wildlife, watching cricket, music, reading, drawing, photography, helping people overcome challenges through effective therapy, bingo, politics, and things that make me laugh!

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