Digging into the Mist
There’s no wall to lean a shovel on,
no space to place that pick,
no shade to set that spade.
Might as well be digging potatoes
in the backyard or stones that rise
to the occasion or loose bones
in an abandoned graveyard.
You are never in the thick of it.
The deeper you go, the further
it fades away. Turn east, turn west,
take the direction you like the best.
Makes no difference. Mist mystifies,
obscures your vision. Where you’ve been,
where you’re going look the same.
Just like this moment. Dig in.