Daily Prompt: Hidden

Driving through the chowder that was the evening fog,

Cautious of the carriers of stupidity.

Infecting the road with their bulging blank stares,

Dangerous and destructive creatures of the forest.

Starting the day without clarity, without the blue.

Searching for something at the end of the road.

The warmth, the light, the familiar was hidden,

Only returning when we were far above and away.