the fog is lovely, unexpected tonight, loitering as it is prone to do elsewhere-not here though where where it expresses disappointment with the local poets-no metaphors? No cats, no shrouds, no pithy imagery, usually at least a simile or two-Who shrug, apologetic, who doesn’t love a good fog?  Proffering  this instead-early model champagne Cadillac sedan with at least a dozen teddy bears-in the passenger’s seat, the generous back row, lined up neatly, patiently waiting, waiting for the Someone who put them there, seatbelted so that even when the vehicle is motionless, parked, they are prepared for the crash, the collision the

Full force of this unexpected

Fog.