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Fog Walking, a poem by Mary Redman

Fog Walking
by Mary Redman

I look at the lake. Haze blots horizon,
a dock juts into nothing, supported by air

like a bread loaf in a surrealist painting. 

My boots kick up streams—I slosh
through wetness, dew and dissolving surface
clouds on grass. This muffled existence can’t last

long. Day winks through in spots forcing
clarity, while dreamlike

dalliance keeps me sleeping as I stroll.

Bio: Mary Redman is a retired high school English teacher who takes classes at the Indiana Writers Center. She works part time supervising student teachers for two universities. She volunteers at the Indianapolis Museum of Art and elsewhere in the community.