Fog

Fog saunters in wrapped in silken softness,
straddling, impales herself on Chicago like a wet kiss. Warm and gentle, wispy motions up and down
strip away graffiti and grime like peeling make-up off a young girl’s face, revealing the long hidden beauty of her soul.

Will she dissolve into nothingness with morning’s rise or will the scent of her cling and linger?
Bare fingered branches reaching, strain for her caress, hungry to coax new life, green buds from brittle skin.

She vanishes like youthful dreams of glory,
slight pangs of regret guard lingering memories of hope.