A poem composed while walking over a bridge, in the dark, in a fog so thick it seemed a living thing. By the time I got to work the poem was finished, and it was all I could do not to bolt for the door inside.

...

When clouds drift down to kiss the ground
And all the world is still.

When something in the silence lurks
With breath both foul and chill

When shivers ripple down your spine
And twist your heart with fear,

Walk quickly friend, and breathe a prayer
And know that death is near.