From dawn this misty
morning we have heard
the doleful calling of the distant
foghorn warning all the sailors
of the dangers on the waters of the deep.
Would that we likewise were warned
when dangers loom and threaten
to destroy, when wars, disease and greed
weigh down their woes upon us
and we find that we are blinded
by the cold and clammy fogs
of ignorance, intolerance and hate.
Pete Crowther
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fog-4/
