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by Karen Dowell

San Francisco fog
cascades into the bay
through golden gates
pours over house-studded hills
swirls across streets like
heavy cream in coffee
muffling sounds

Maine fog
descends with avian grace
like feathers falling
blurs spruce-tipped horizons
erases islands
fades into the heaven of old movies
as gulls sing duets with fog horns

When we met
you rolled into my life
filled with bold promises
dramatic dreams
teasing, testing
you always kept me
just outside your fog line

When did you change?

Your slow, sensuous
maritime mists
envelop me, hold me
calm and steady
kiss my lips with salt spray

God, I hope you never lift

Reprinted with permission by Karen Dowell for Two Dog Press. From A Year on the Avenue, Athens Avenue Poetry Circle. © Copyright 1998 by the Athens Avenue Poetry Circle. All Rights Reserved. Originally appeared in Free Zone Quarterly.

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Document last modified on: 02/12/1998

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