In the middle of the Covid pandemic, an Ekphrastic poem contest presented a painting of a elegantly dressed woman, walking in a city covered in fog, wearing a brilliant scarlet gown.  Wispy fog covers her face, and parts of her body, so the observer can only see her torso and her left hand holding part of her dress, presumably to keep the bottom hem off the pavement as she walked.  Her face, right side and feet are obscured by the fog, as are other background elements.  Some trees are visible to her right and a faint outline of some multistoried buildings behind her, suggesting an urban setting. 

Some questions arise:  Who is she?  Where is she? What is her destination?  Why is she walking alone in such finery?  Even in clear sunshine, we may not be able to answer those questions, unless we spotted a well-known face or landmark to go by.  The whole portrait is beclouded in mystery, perhaps recalling the London fog in Jack the Ripper days.  

My poem submission described what I saw and felt, but failed to answer any of the questions.

An Evening Stroll

An evening stroll
Wearing a ball gown,
Elegant style,
Silken scarlet,
Blurred by wispy fog
Competing for attention.

Where is she going?
Why is she alone?
Does she wear a mask?
Does anyone care?

A pandemic thrives
In gatherings of
Tied dyed tees,
Red ball gowns,
No place to hide.
No place to go.