In arid coastal areas of South America, locals hang rags outside until they're saturated with fog. They wring out this water, all year long, as a means of survival. They call it "harvesting fog." And that, writes LUCI SHAW, is a lot like writing poems. In her poems, Shaw observes and contemplates nature and humanity: "I'm merely a floater in the eye of God." "Behold the fleck of ant... If by observation, we become part of an insect's life, is he aware...