fog rolls in, out, and around, snaking through streets and alleys, limiting the horizon to unclear and hazy shapes and colors. Muted, the volume way down on the eyes. seeing from afar, but disappearing when anear, the forest for the trees, except this time with water molecules, and dust, and light reflections, and things I used to know. Things i used to know, making space for things to know now, the route taken most often, the streets, lights, and traffic flows, go on red, right turn when I feel like, the sidewalks when useful, not so clear and well defined. soft. comfy. comefee. cumphee. quiet like and melancholy. days to glide, take your time, fall days, with leaves, trees in varying states of undress.