Dawn’s Drapery


Fog encumbers the hills as it cleaves to the pasture.

Sunrise viewed from heaven, only memory here.

Scarce sunlight penetrates the heavy veil.

Like a thick curtain hung in the parlor to dispel the light,

the fog hangs in the valleys,

using the trees for its curtain rod.

Headlights attempt to shine down the lane,

tiny beam to illuminate a path.

A newborn calf bawls for his mama,

she drinks from the pond shrouded in white.


About Iris D

Pastor, former youth pastor who writes skits, devotionals, poems,and short stories. Won awards on short stories and poetry, and have published both poetry and non-fiction.

6 responses to “Dawn’s Drapery

  1. love this, very beautiful imagery, thanks for sharing.


  2. I love this poem, especially the lines: the fog hangs in the valleys,
    using the trees for its curtain rod.

    I posted a poem on fog today, too. Always interesting to see how different poets approach the same subject. Thanks for your visit and comment. I thought I had been here but then realized that I had. Hugs, pat

  3. Very beautiful, I love how trees become curtain rods, it’s so true when there is a heavy fog, it hangs on everything. Dawns Drapery is a perfect title. Well done!

  4. Thank you for your comment on my nonsense poem.
    You have used imagery and personification in a lovely way in this poem.


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