Towards Better Democracy

Good words, well written, better the world. Good literature betters the world immeasurably.

The Fog’s Shroud


The fog which shrouds the mast and makes of the ship a ghost,
And leaves it drifting, everything invisible,
Is lifting.

The fog which gripped the ship, making it still,
Barely heaving in the swell. The air thick and choking,
The eerie sound of silence.

The fog which bound the captain full of dread
For the rocks upon which the ship might founder
Threatening loss of life.

The fog which made of the sailors not sailors,
But skivvies scrubbing decks, sealing leaks,
Can turn to setting sail.

The fog, cleared by the wind, the sails fill and billow,
The prow cuts through the water, the foam spraying fish
The sailors back to life.

The fog having lifted, the bos’n takes the telescope,
The sextant glints in the sunlight
And by night, starlight.

The fog dispersed, the ship’s position certain,
Sets sail for its destination,
The crew content.

Malcolm D B Munro
Saturday, February 20, 2016

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Filed under: art, Literature, Media, Music, poetry, songs, stories

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