Fog

Waves of the sea’s ghost
lap at my farmyard,
my neighbor has vanished
in a mouth of cloud,
I hear his dog bark
from another country
and the town has been crowned
with its smudge of smoke.
This is a moment of exile
I cherish, I am no stranger
to my own world,

With my permission I feed the hungry
in my denial there are no poor.
I lean against the morning
and watch the cows cluster
like daisy petals around the tank,
the warning cry of a far train
tightens your hand in mine
as the wind from outer space
brings its gust of news.