Fog

Over a first green tea, brewed on a coffee making machine ,I looked for today's word from a jumble of old poetry words, by a random gleaning from websites . The word that came was Prospice from Browning's poem by that name. Word Prospice wouldn't ring any bells . No Latin for me but Greek mythology might do.Let me see.

Meanwhile a better thing seemed to be our good old death theme,a familiar Browning theme. Fog in the throat was exemplary. When we faced a severe dog on the street we had such a fog in our throat. But fog in the throat was like mist in our eyes. That was no big deal of a word assembly, unless it meant something from the dog's side.Yes. If we had fog in our throat , let the dog have it too.

So we have today's poem , where both I and dog have fog in our throats:

Fog in the throat

At times there is death’s browning,
An experience of the fog in throat
A chemical stirred by a stray dog
Smelling our death in casual walk.

The dog is sniffing his own death
Barking head off on our intrusion
At a death walking in on two legs,
Trying to fight a fog in his throat.

(Reference is to Robert Browning’s poem Prospice)