The Fog

In moody thickets roams fog,
Uncured and fluffy like a dog,
Like milk its white, dense like egg nog.
Refreshing,gluey, seeping fog.

From whence comest thou, from which far bog?
Thy tepid smell sets me agog,
Balooning, heavy like a hog.
You trample land, oh, sticky fog.

I see no log, and hear no frog
With sights and sounds erased by fog,
In Nature's wheels you are a cog,
Lactating, restless, pasty fog.