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Such white fog! Such silver fog!

Such gray fog! Such endless fog!

As though through a smoked glass

I would observe the eclipse of the sun.

When I strolled lightly in the park...

Such dense fog! Still denser fog!

A hundred times there and a hundred here,

Between the short street and the returning road.

Through  a veil of tears, through the graying frost,

Through a foggy gauze, almost translucent,

Again I see every house and store,

And every window in every building.

Through  a veil of tears, through the graying frost,

The closest path to familiar lands and home.

Thus, through a fog as such one, just then,

Longing eases, memories become brighter.

This is one of my favourite poems...

A Crime Scene

by Albert Van Hoogmoed 

There's been a murder, a woman was killed,

found in a bathtub, partially filled.

A pair of policemen went into the house

and questioned the poor woman's spouse.

He'd just come home from working all night

and found her like that, a terrible sight.

The younger policeman looked on with dismay.

He'd never forget that terrible day.

He saw the young woman from behind the door

and empty milk cartons all over the floor,

Scattered strawberries, slices of fruit,

and spoonfuls of sugar and honey to boot.

''Who could have done this terrible thing?''

His voice had a horrified, pitiful ring.

''Just look at the clues,'' replied Sargeant Miller.

''It looks like the work of a cereal killer.''