Passage

[rejectomorph]

All day the fog drifted, occasionally withdrawing enough to reveal a sky still clouded but bright with diffused sunlight. The woods would be first ghostly and chill, dripping and drooping, and then filled with a pearly light. Nightfall brought no change, and hours have now passed starless and chill, though the town's light, reflected back from the vague sky, does now and then dim in one patch or another, suggesting an incipient tattering of the overcast. No rain has fallen since early morning and stillness prevails where, last night, the water drummed and splattered hour after hour. By dawn we may see... dawn. Already, even by night, the lower air has begun to lose its dampness, and dry patches are appearing on the pavements. The storm is gone and only these empty clouds linger, moving slowly east.

Comments

[daisydumont.livejournal.com]

another beautiful block poem! prose poem? it's a poem, however defined.

[rejectomorph]

Thanks. :)