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.