Descent

ok, one more, then I'm done :)

Fluffy looks up from her mail
Then disappears into the fog
To forge a way, to take the helm
The choices tend to overwhelm.
A tipsy leprechaun appears
Stumbling on the holes and ruts
Lifts his leg high as his belt
Splash, he faceplants into mud
The local terradactyl looms
So into fog the beaten way
I blaze my new trail into gray