Walking Home on a Foggy Evening


I watched the mist roll up the street last night
And fill the hollows in between the homes.
It muffled footsteps on the path and quite
Obscured the glowing lights of garden gnomes.
Where does the world go in those magic hours
When all the imps and will-o-wisps abroad
Transform an avenue of leafy boughs
In shrouds of quicksilver and softly plod
The traces of the hoary air? Are all
The cares of the day extinguished like a lamp
Turned down against the lowering drowsy pall
Of sleep at day's end? These and others damp
My spirits but they cannot hide the glee
With which I turn around my front door key.

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