Foliage: Various Poems

THE FOG

     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";

       A blind man led me home.