Fog People
You often
almost see them
from the corner
of your eye.
You sense
a wisp of grey,
a floating,
ethereal
movement
that suddenly
d i s s o l v e s.
They drift
quietly,
gently,
on the edge
of our consciousness:
these pale,
these grey,
these haunting
people,
whom all,
but Time,
have forgotten.
If we chance
to pause,
to peer beyond
the drifting veil,
we see,
within the shroud,
a preview of ourselves
tomorrow.
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