Smell of Fog - a poem

Out of the door, it closed behind me with a slam
As I prepared to enter work this Thursday AM
In my mind I chanted "to work I don't want"
so I detoured by the lake, back around to front

The fog had rolled in, and the lake was half missing
I heard splashes of the ducks as they were fishing
I guess they can't read the signs that are posted
For the lake at work is Superfund-toasted

An interesting scent wafted through the air
And my nose flared as I sniffed here and over there
I tried to give this scent a poetical name
But my thesaurus brain, so early, was off its game

The fog smelled tangy, I thought, or perhaps ionic
My nose couldn't determine exactly, as it is not bionic
And as I rushed into the office to put this down on paper
Was when I realized the mulch had been replaced by the landscaper.