Fog Line

The fog has set

Over this expanse

Of sharp-green 



Muting the hillside

Rolling into wherever.


Anywhere you haven’t

Been, you haven’t

Been anywhere.


You are a deer

On one side of the line

Paralyzed in this moment

        The next, perhaps

Leaping to run

Into traffic


To save yourself,

To escape,

To die accidental–

To get free


You’re not quite sure.


What do you know about



That you sat on your bed

For an hour before you 

Remembered that you’re

Free now, that you can 

Move where you like  eat with a fork  stand under the stars  

talk back  run into the fog  pet the dog  sleep in  try sex  

feel fully  get bad  go back.


Are you free?

Althea Seloover, 2020