1.

The mist creeps and skulks

Along the banks of the Tweed

Noiselessly towards

Kelso, like a poacher with

A salmon under his coat.

2.

The mist lurks in the

Alder grove.  Between the trees

Nothing stirs but wet

Kinks of moonlight, which slowly

And stealthily unravel.

3.

The mist settles like

A cat on Thankerton moor,

Narrowing its eyes,

Kneading the turf with its claws,

And purring contentedly.

4.

The mist rolls in waves

Against the headlights as I

Nudge my way homeward,

Keeping the cats’ winking eyes

Always where I can see them.

5.

The mist fills the street,

As dawn struggles out of bed.

Night has left its sleep

Knotted like cold wet towels

Around the trees and lampposts.

6.

The mist lifts her skirts

And traipses off before the

Noon discovers her

Knickerless astride the land.

A late star tips her a wink.