Fog / Mist

The physicist Richard Feynman once related a story about his father. How, his father said, to know the name of a bird isn’t impressive because it tells us nothing about the bird. Notice the bird: how it looks, how it behaves, what it does. Then, you’ll know something about it. As a poet, I’d add to notice how the object of one’s attention changes something about ourselves.

Fog / Mist

I still can’t tell the difference
between fog and mist –
which slicks from off the ground,
which visits from above.

I suppose I could look
it up on my phone,
but then I would have missed

black wings cutting through
this morning’s blur stained green
from farther trees

like a memory coming into focus
or a dream dissolving into day.