Fog descends, covering us with
A white shroud, of softness.
Halos of light can be seen,
On the headlights of autos.
Eerie light rays, project downward
From the tall streetlight sentinels.
The softness mutes the noise of
Tires, humming on a distant freeway
And the noise of dogs, barking at
The early morning, paper boy,
Delivering the news.
Foggy mornings, mystify,
Capturing my thoughts,
Like light attracts moths.
Very nice poem.