Originally Posted By: labug
so this made me think of the poem Fog:

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on

Carl Sandberg


I look forward to the fog moving on.

Me: 43 W: 44 T: 13 M: 8
BD: 01/26/2013
IC: 03/19/2013
S: 04/10/2013
TC: 08/14/2013
DF: 09/15/2013
DR: WAW LRT