RDC Poetry April 2020





by Alice Feeley, RDC




can envelope my day

with panoramas of morning fog

erasing shorelines, folding ridge and hollow into clouds.

My window opens on bales of gray

spread out like smoke from unseen flames.

Backlit by watery sun, boats are blurred,

suspended in massive shrouds.

Everything is far away.

sometimes swift light sweeps away dense mist,

assuring me of what I know

before another wave of fog moves in

and hides it all. I’m a stranger

finding ways to improvise.