![Derek Harper [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons](http://www.polutexni.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/Fog_at_Druids_Head_Farm_-_geograph.org_.uk_-_1622664.jpg)
the fog remembers
promises once watered
by cascades of dew
each speck of mist
a prism into the past
when these men and women
lived and breathed
walking this valley soil
with trowel and shovel
digging deep
to bury the seeds of dreams
first nurtured in
Armenia, Japan, Arkansas
Italy or Oklahoma
now they return
during this first fog
of the year
California’s heartland smothered
beneath a cotton-thick mist
the cold means nothing
when that thick mud
squishes between bared toes
hardened by a long walk
along Route 66;
with water comes growth
even after death
those seeds still grow in
this dirt, this promised land
that blessed kiss of moisture
the musk of earth heavy in air
the joy of grit
between each finger, the smile
at spying a first seedling;
one blessed night to return home
the fog remembers
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