A poem from “Snow, Shadows, a Stranger”


Fog is the day’s shroud. It teases greens from

the trees’ leaves and mutes the siren scream of reds.

Fog soothes the itching edges and asks us all

to disappear until we tire of being awake.

Fog is weather’s seductive amusement

that settles over valleys like feathered caprices.

Fog likes to lick streets and drip on windshields

and mirrors, to frizz the dog’s hair and dampen wool.

Fog does not speak. It hums in a silver register

only heard by stones.

Fog is akin to coma. Someday we will all succumb

to its vanishing.


from Snow, Shadows, a Stranger by Laury A. Egan (FootHills Publishing 2009)




About Laury A. Egan

The author of "The Outcast Oracle" (A Kirkus Reviews "Best Book of 2013"); "Fog and Other Stories'" a psychological suspense novel, "Jenny Kidd'" and "Fabulous! An Opera Buffa" (forthcoming, 2018). Poetry: two full-length collections: "Snow, Shadows, a Stranger" and "Beneath the Lion's Paw;" and a chapbook, "The Sea & Beyond," all issued in limited editions. For many years, she worked as a senior designer and administrator for Princeton University Press and later as a freelancer for 20 publishers.
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