I've been thinking lately about poetry logic, how reasoning in poetry works a lot differently, but can still explain and convey messages and truths. This poem kinda does that, though it was before.
The fog murmurs outside the window
Only in the scarlet sky
Will we make sense of what we see.
When now we peer to indiscernible hues
dim blues, thick smothering veil,
'Twill carve away to crisp edges golden
Etched out in minute detail.
And you, shrouded in dusky mist
whose outline suggests - a ship? Or stool?
Like inkblots; come dawn evaporated
We perceive in part, but then in full.