Lost
Trudging towards eve of dusk
Ominous fog drifting into view
Shrouding nature’s signposts
Turning trees into ghostly apparitions
Crisp footsteps accompany haunting howls
Tracking prints of fear
In once brave heart
Calling for home
Unspoken vesper astral floating
Mountains hear plea
Shining salvation’s light
Very ethereal! I love seeing the fog, and the way it transforms ordinary objects into mysterious shapes. 🙂 Great imagery in your poem.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank-you for the lovely comment, Barbara. The fog certainly transform the visual world in odd ways. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oooh, very spooky!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ha ha! The ghosts of winter fog. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I hate being lost in a wooded area, even a small one. One can get turned around quickly even if one is on trails and there is still plenty of light.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know. It can feel scary to feel lost. I was cross-country skiing in my younger years and lost track of time, dusk coming and racing to get back home. Every sound is threatening. My inspiration for this poetry. Thanks for commenting Frank. 🙂
LikeLike
A very atmospheric poem Olga. Such a tranquil scene but the mind and imagination can make it seem threatening…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank-you, Mek. Yes, in a situation of feeling lost, the emotions takes over and may exaggerate the reality of the situation.
LikeLiked by 1 person
that is essentially what fear does, isn’t it? you reminded me of a time years ago when I sat on a foggy hill side, alone. I couldnt see beyond a meter and was calm and content for a while but then the silence as the group I was with got further away started to spook me out and I had this weird feeling of questioning how much time had passed and if I’d ever make my way back out of the fog.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Interesting story, Mek. Thanks for sharing. Yes, fog has a strange way of enhancing fear in certain situation.
LikeLiked by 1 person
No problem! Yes, plays on the fear of the unknown / unseen. I should add, I have read I think 3 poems of bloggers I follow in response to this prompt and they have all been great! I must check out this font of inspiration 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
You should, Mek. I just started a few weeks ago and it’s inspiring my creativity. I think that I really enjoy the interesting commentary that I don’t get on other sites. It’s seems to be a wonderful community. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I was going purely by the great poems I have come across in my reader, I haven’t visited dVerse but will do soon! Great to hear it has been inspiring you! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
A beautiful poem Olga there is always hope
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, in a survival situation there is always hope.
LikeLike
The fog is almost a ghost itself. Wonders.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The fog can be a scary entity when one is lost. Thanks for you comment, Bjorn.
LikeLike
Extremely ethereal! I cherish seeing the haze, and the way it changes normal articles into puzzling shapes..Great symbolism in your sonnet.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think haze and fog are very similar in cloaking the visual world around us. Thank-you for the lovely comment. ❤
LikeLike
You made the hairs stand up on my neck, Olga – I love being out in fog and its wonderful artistic way of ‘Turning trees into ghostly apparitions’. The sounds in your poem create an atmosphere with a chilly frisson. I love that phrase: ‘Unspoken vesper astral floating’!
LikeLiked by 1 person
The fog can definitely add a ghostly transformation to our view of a familiar world. Happy that my words touched your senses. Thank-you for the thoughtful comment, Kim. ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
I don’t relish getting lost, yikes ~ I admire this ending, very mystical:
Unspoken vesper astral floating
Mountains hear plea
Shining salvation’s light
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank-you for saying that you enjoyed the ending, Grace. ❤
Feeling lost is a very scary thing to go through and in the end one relies on inner faith and sheer determination to get out of the situation. I remember following a marked trail in the wilderness. The trail went on and on, splitting up into multiple trails, but the markers disappeared at one point which I didn’t pay attention to at first. Panic set in and it was getting late in the day. Back-tracking and trying to remember which was the right way was nerve-wracking. I felt amazing relief that I didn’t have to spend the night in the bush. Lesson learned. 🙂
LikeLike
Sometimes we have to get lost in order to truly find ourselves… ❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very insightful, Sanaa. ❤
LikeLike
shrouding nature’s signposts… that’s a great description!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Glad you like it. ❤
LikeLike
I truly like this poem. Years ago I lived in the mountains of NC and the fog could come on suddenly or, in the winter, a low clouds could pass over an area and you would see all these horizontal icicles…rime ice it was called. Fog is most intriguing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank-you for liking my poetry. Yes, rime ice is beauty in nature. 🙂
LikeLike
Hi Olga! I’ve had a fascination with fog since I was a child. Everything inside a fog is shrouded in mystery. Great pictures and loved your poem too! 😀 xx
LikeLiked by 1 person
Fog intrigues me also. Thanks for visiting. Hope you have a great week-end. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Have a great week!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m a city girl, but your beautiful poem and photo brought back an evening from long long ago. A fog so thick that you didn’t see who was walking toward you on the NYac streets until they broke the grey curtain and were right next to you. Shivers. Thanks for sharing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, I’ve experienced very thick and eerie fogs also in my small city environment. “Grey curtain” is a great way to describe it. Thanks for checking out my work. ❤
LikeLike
Excellent eerily expressive poetry. Fog truly can be frightening, especially when you are driving.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank-you, Marje. I agree that driving in fog can be disquieting. Glad you dropped by.
LikeLiked by 1 person