Foglight on Wiley Slough
In the Time of Quiet,
Time of shortened days,
In winter’s fog near freezing,
We longed for Morning’s haze.
Wiley Slough so quiet,
No sounds, no one but us;
In the Silent Stillness,
A Heron! Tip….toed….through.
Frozen by Her beauty,
Standing still as reeds,
I watched as She stepped into,
Foglight! On Wiley….Slough.
Now Summer rushes forward,
No masks, no shuttered doors;
When I miss the Quiet,
I imagine Her once more.
–poem and photo by Ellyn Thoreen
