September morning—
 
the city streets are quiet,
 
shrouded in thick fog.

 
 
 

Final days of spring—
 
morning by morning thick fog
 
enshrouds my plum tree.

 
 
 

My cherry tree groans,
 
weighted down by morning fog
 
pressing on each branch.

 
 
 

If only this fog
 
would slip across the footbridge
 
and into the pond!

 
 
 

January fog
 
muffles the voices of crows
 
on my neighbor’s fence.

 
 
 

Overcast morning—
 
a crow on the backyard fence
 
blends in with the fog.

 
 
 

Stealthy as a cat,
 
fog prowls through the city streets,
 
muffling every sound.

 
 
 

Through this morning’s fog
 
I cannot see my plum tree—
 
spring melancholy.

 
 
 

Last days of winter—
 
fog blanketing the backyard
 
hides my leafless plum.

Fog

 
 
 

settling on the fence
 
where a crow often perches—
 
early morning fog