Poem: The Question

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The Question

Yes, I know the fog will rise.
The question is when, and whether
it is safe

to be lost that long.

About this poem. 

I am sometimes accused of being wise. I would question that assessment. Mostly I feel like I am walking in fog, with the answers just out of reach. . The picture was taken at the edge of West Pawlet, Vermont, a few weeks ago.

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