“The fog is like a cage

Without a key.”

Elizabeth Wurtzel

I woke up before dawn

My old body was achin

I peered out the window

The fog my lawn had taken

I couldn’t see twenty feet

It was as if we were afloat

On an endless ocean of fog

And this old house was a boat

And the silence was ominous

I couldn’t hear one single sound

It felt like the entire vast universe

Had evaporated never to be found

Dark foggy mornings like this

Usually make me sleepily say,

“Sweetie, I think I’ll stay right here

In this comfy old bed most of the day.”

But dark foggy mornings like this

Usually make my wife sagely say,

“Fog or no Fog, you’ve still got

All those chores of yours to do today.”

And that’s when I grumble

And I wearily crawl out of bed

And I stumble down those stairs

For some coffee and toasted bread

Then I venture out that front door

And I start my chores for the day

But on dark foggy mornins like this

For just a little sunshine I always pray

I guess the tasks that we all have in our lives

Don’t up and disappear in the thick mornin fog

But these foggy mornins can bring on the blues

On days like this I’d rather be sleepin like a log

©2007, A Fogged In Mr. Ed