Friday’s assignment for Writing 201 was to write an elegy using fog as a metaphor. After two days of quite literally nothing, I finally had some form of inspiration.
I don’t exactly like it, but neither do I hate it. It’s broken, yet fixable.
Elegy Time is flying faster now although the days seem long. Mem'ry isn't what it used to be - they say it's only fog. I can't recall my favorite foods, no jokes, no tales, no stories, while I remember mundane things - they say it's only fog. I can't recall our family trips or who we took along. The games we played are all forgot - they say it's only fog. I can't recall my favorite book nor yet my favorite song. Like Richard's mind my spine is bent - They say it's only fog. I can't recall the names of those whose pictures grace my walls, while I remember childhood friends - they say it's only fog. It matters not the words I've said or the places I have gone, for what were once the concrete things are now but sand and fog.