Poem in Which She Vanishes into Fog

Fog knows the art of slow conceal:
there goes one small and hurried figure

as she flies towards the morning train,
the school of endless tests, the mute hills

of tomorrow. Fog knows how to steal
the child from your eyes, to contain

that life that can’t be yours, a land that lies
beyond you. All shapes must change.

Jacqueline Saphra

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