Staten Island Fog

From May 9, 1978 Journal

On the Staten Island Ferry The first time I've left Manhattan Since Boston. I can't see anything of Manhattan. The fog follows the ferry's wake. The harbor air The sea Beyond the Verrazano Bridge. The gray water darker than the gray air. The world a maze of opaque sameness. The ferry approaches St. George. The passengers disembark Return to Manhattan on the same ferry. A fog horn sounds our departure. The wooden dock enveloped by gray. Fifteen seconds later we are lost in it.