FOG
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
Carl Sandburg
This is a cute little book about a fleeting friendship — one day a cat came to stay, and then it went away, leaving gifts behind like cats, fogs, and friendships do.
I remember this poem from the fourth grade, where we learned to say onomatopoeia. Sadly, it took until college to remember how to spell it.
Go forth and read the latest Edge of the Forest. I’m seeing double now, but I will be sure to give it a thorough read tomorrow… especially A Day in the Life, which features novelist Lauren Myracle of text-message novel fame, the Cybils recap (but no hints on this year’s – the jury is still out!), and the piece on reading and teaching Mortal Engines in Dubai… some really great stuff.
