Fog / William H Davies

How sometimes we can lose our way, wonderful metaphor using the fog .....

The Fog by William H Davies

I saw the fog grow thick,

Which soon made blind my ken;

It made tall men of boys,

And giants of tall men.

It clutched my throat, I coughed;

Nothing was in my head

Except two heavy eyes

Like balls of burning lead.

And when it grew so black

That I could know no place,

I lost all judgment then,

Of distance and of space.

The street lamps, and the lights

Upon the halted cars,

Could either be on earth

Or be the heavenly stars.

A man passed by me close,

I asked my way, he said,

"Come, follow me, my friend"—

I followed where he led.

He rapped the stones in front,

"Trust me," he said, "and come";

I followed like a child—

A blind man led me home.

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