Fog comes on cat’s feet
As does age.
Together they creep in, becoming one,
silently, stealthily stealing youth.
The fog confiscates memories,
transforming them to thin and ethereal wisps,
ungraspable as they fade.
Although they never completely leave,
for the mistiness condenses to tears.
Dew forms more easily in fog
and drips down cheeks.
And always must be swiped away
before pain is seen.
The long ago sun’s heat melted joys,
grew children up and away,
and evaporated hopes and dreams.
Hair silvers, reflects the fog,
and film dulls the eyes
until the whole world fills with grayness.
And all becomes mist.