Standing in this foggy rain,
it is reasonable, no, expected,
to mark a little obscure,
so let me begin to explain
why poetry would have no need
to be written if we
all stood here right now
in this foggy rain, cold
dampness seeping through,
its heavy cedar and pine
its drizzling down the world
our not seeing past
that first hemlock, hanging
dark in this foggy rain,
stillness clawing the birch
Poems from in between 
10 responses to “This foggy rain”
The imagery is fantastic in this poem. I feel present in the scene while reading it and am reminded of the conceptual understandings we can derive from nature.
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Thank you. I keep trying to find inspiration elsewhere, but nature seems to be the center of everything for me. Glad you liked this one.
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I connect everything to nature, too 🙂 Have a great day!
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I love the hypothesis you put forth in the second stanza. Imagine what it would be life if everyone had the eyes of a poet. I suspect that world peace would not be just a far distance dream.
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It is worth wondering. Then again, maybe we would all forget to pick our kids up at school or show up at work. All chaos would let loose! 🙂 Thanks so much.
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You get right to the heart of it–“why poetry would have no need
to be written if”
I love “stillness clawing the birch”
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Thank you. I cannot be wholly responsible what goes through my head standing among tall trees and a rushing creek on a mountain side. Comparable, I am guessing, to your Ireland moments?
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Ah, maybe! Now you have me thinking of Wordsworth (it was Wordsworth?) and his “recollecting in tranquility”…it is so interesting which experiences get dissected and processed, and which ones just pour out.
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I mean ‘yes!’ And which ones need to be pulled out, though unprocessed.
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