Waves of haar rolled in on the witching wind. Evening birdsong died away. For the first time ever he dared take her hand and she held his tighter than he had ever hoped. In silence they stood and walked away, glad of the quiet mist. Tomorrow the sun would shine.
fog hides frost underfoot
the fog into which you disappeared
my balance is lost
Her memories are gone so on his every visit he makes new ones with her, knowing they will shine before they fade, fireworks through the fog.
Trees edge their upmost branches above the drowning fog.
Found 50p piece though.
Autumn lemon sun slices through the heavy gin-fog. Scalloped red leaves spiral down, sparking a sparkle in cool air. Uncertain smiles.
Don’t wipe the condensation away from inside the bus windows. That’s where the fog lives when the sun comes out.