Fog at Round Pond II

You could not see the harbor from the hill,
A little slope of lawn, perhaps a tree
Sketched nervously within a misty swirl
Of grey poured softly over earth and sea.

And yet a certain stir of life was heard,
The gentle thrum of lobster boats, paired oars
Dipping to water, raucous cries of birds,
Sea gulls and crows, voices beside the shore,

Proof that despite obscurity there were
Those regularities that could not be
Deterred by an impenetrable air
Whose essence would become a chemistry

Like a solution where photos appear
Faintly at first then sharper into view,
Here images come only outline clear
Out of the fog before we see them true

Houses and boats, landings about the pond,
Quick flights of birds and lobstermen revealed,
A separation of the sea from land,
The morning’s new exposure of the world.