Memories of Snow

Fog In El Cahone Pass

Fog In El Cahone Pass

An ameba enveloping its prey,
the fog consumes my car
as I climb snail-like
toward the crest
of El Cahone Pass.

The low beams of my headlights,
reflecting back
from half visible lane markers
and the fog's
protoplasmic body,
reveal
a gray jelly-like substance
that flows over,
under,
and around my car.

I am imprisoned
in a time warp--
there is no past,
no present,
no future--
existence is composed
of the fog
and my car.

Poet's Note: ▶︎

I wrote this in Azamat 154 B.E. It was inspired by driving up El Cahone Pass in the fog.