A Soup To Dream Of

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 A Soup To Dream Of


Last night a dense fog

A cloud down low

Enveloped the bridge

On which I walked


A bridge over the river

And under another

Under a river

Overhead, a river of fog


Thick as clam chowder

Steaming on the cookstove

Thick enough to eat

But without a taste


Met there a person

Emerging from the chowder

A man in uniform

A cop no less


Exchanged what pleasantries

You can in a fog bank

All words left sodden

In the vaporous murk


Kept walking and walking

Through the mist river

Had to get to the grandkids

To enjoy them today


Then out of the fog

I spied a ceiling

As my eyes opened

I awoke from my dream.

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