What am I looking for in a foggy night,
like tonight, where the lights are dimmed
from the distance and the denseness in between?
This place, conjured from otherworldly occasions

where events are exhaled into existence and forgotten
like the slow inhale of a breath being absorbed
into the body; though I am out of body,
standing in the place between the swaying shadows

of a swinging lamp, attempting to connect the dots
from where my body stands to where the light
is its brightest. Yet there are many sources,
like the street lamp, to the passing headlights

and tilted reflectors standing guard,
to the dull shade of puddles standing
beneath my feet. And I am remiss in forcing
one direction for losing sight
of all the denseness of this foggy night.

by (c) Joshua Biddle