The photographer watches, clicks, stops; the moment is captured; vision stabilizes. The poet sees, snaps, begins; the moment is liberated; the viewing begins. Tess Gallagher says, "poetry is always the enemy of photography." The art of poetry requires more than external vision; a poem takes the reader outside and inside to see, hear, touch and feel every detail. In the poem “Fog,” Amy Clampitt immerses the reader's senses in the totality of the moment's external grace and its secret inner core. Clampitt seeks what is hidden from the eyes. He wants what the camera can't record. Her subject allows her to show the distinct function and power of poetry. The fog darkens, envelops, limits, dissolves; defeats the sight. "Fog" reveals, illuminates, broadens and intensifies; gives the sight. There is a pleasant poetic irony in Clampitt's ability to make so present to the mind's eye the very thing that the eyes themselves cannot see at all. “A vagueness pervades everything, / as if proving color and contour / equally superfluous” (Clampitt 610). As things disappear, “the lighthouse...