the fog has not left for days

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the fog has not left for days

a white wall cascades up from the river

trapping us in the coldness of its depths

and everything in between us

has been cast with a thin layer of white

the willow tree out the window

its branches curving down with the extra weight

threatening to touch the ground

even the sagebrush has been frosted

seemingly creating a winter desert

freezing its inhabitants

separating us from the rest of the world