wetland in the living room

it is foggy outside

it is foggy inside too

moon levitates over the couch,

clouds of mist and ghosts

sleep-walk past the tv,

crickets laughing,

wolves applauding,

wooden floors turn muddy

 

I sit on the grey closet,

a lonely nightingale observing scenes in quiet,

documenting wisely:

it is foggy inside

it is foggy outside too