Mist

• Mahli Porter, Grade 6
• Poetry
• 2021

Mist is like fog, not smoke.
There are no cinders, but there is cloud.
Mist haunts the place where people lie.
It floats over them,
Over the coffins they hide in.
Mist is not what it seems.
It's the holder of secrets.
Seeker of dreams.
It seeps into cracks,
Into stones,
Into hidden places.
Mist is one people do not fear,
Although,
They should,
For secretive reasons
That will remain hidden.