December Days

A foggy day, the dampness clings, The cold seeps in to abuse the bones. A soggy day, a rain’s shower rings With music filled with many tones. No view to see, all is obscured. The distance is not in my sight. No blue to see, I’m not assured That it will clear and give respite. The scene is vanishing ahead of me, Mists floating everywhere you glance. A screen is banishing the shrubbery, And therefore there is no advance. It’s found, this haze on December days, When temperatures move up and down. It’s fogbound on the carriageways, And all across the old hometown. An eerie feeling steals around, Unsettled emotions haunt the mind. One cheery thought, just to be shelter bound, And back with earth’s own humankind. © Ernestine Northover