I know I am a few days behind, but I thought I would keep going.
This poem is by a famous Southern writer. I fully understand it now that I live in St. Andrews, Scotland.
Fog
by Carl Sandburg
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
Aw, Sandburg. Love this poem...and his place. :)
Posted by: Haley | 25 April 2009 at 11:13 PM