The fog on Christmas day surprised me.
It stole over garden gate and fence,
Wavered by the lily-pond, hovered by
The cold-dulled bark of the silver birches
And crossed with care the close-cropped lawn.
Now coal-shed and garage vanish,
And I am alone in the wilderness.
It stole over garden gate and fence,
Wavered by the lily-pond, hovered by
The cold-dulled bark of the silver birches
And crossed with care the close-cropped lawn.
Now coal-shed and garage vanish,
And I am alone in the wilderness.
1948