Many years ago, I came across the words Fog Catcher on a site, and had no idea what that meant so I looked it up. For those who don’t know, a Fog Catcher is mesh stretched out between two poles where water droplets from fog accumulate and drip down into whatever people place below them. Since I found the idea fascinating, I wrote this free style poem in honor of fog catchers.
Evening fog rolls in like a dirty secret—
heavy—wet, releasing its fluids on foliage.
Water vapors turned droplets,
drippings left before fog melts away.
Pots scatter across the land
under trees, shrubs, stealing their tears.
Screens secured, a simplicity of devices,
entangles the water hanging in air.
Oceans dilute the hardened earth,
loosens constraints on humanity.
Mines close, construction halts, but the coast fog
keeps its promise to the hilltops.
Nature and its Wonders,