Trees hide themselves
In the midst of the fog.
The rain patters.
The Cottonwood trees' leaves glitter.
It is mysterious.
It hides things from view.
Taboo.
I strain my eyes,
And see nothing
but fog.
We drive on.
The mist is cool.
A tragic love song.
The rain fades away.
I smile.
Mist has secrets.
Fog has mystery and enchantment.
Mist subsides,
and we drive away.
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