dreams of fog

the white colour hangs

above their roofs,

                          dreams of fog;

deeper down the earth is wet,

watery clouds shine in the puddles

            and the morning birds are still asleep.

people, locked up on doors and thresholds,

wear their good attires and stand,

peering through the crevices.

they do not know that

          neither the teddy-bear-man shall pass under their windows,

          nor shall the children run on the iced roads,

          nor shall the laughter of the elders’  echo on the glass;

but they do know that dreams of fogs,

which stand above their heads,

exist and will take them away.

so they accept that at least something is bound to happen.