[dVerse] May 7th - The Fog Has My House Keys

The Fog Has My House KeysThe fog comes inlike it has been here before.Not dramatically.No doorbell.No throat-clearing at the gate.No screaming.No door-slamming.Just a soft trespassover the balcony railing,through the laundry clips,past the basil plantthat has seen too muchand says nothing.By midnight,the buildings lose their surnames.The streetlights becomesmall government officesprocessing