1d
Windy winter day,
You walk alone in the white and gray.
I walk four paces far from you,
A ghost in the snow's fair ballet.
A bitter breeze blows from the west,
Interrupted by my wispy form.
Graces your rosy cheek,
And you turn to where the winds came from.
Squinting through the blinding snow,
You stare right at me.
And for a moment I think you know,
That I am here, a winter's ghost.
You walk alone in the white and gray.
I walk four paces far from you,
A ghost in the snow's fair ballet.
A bitter breeze blows from the west,
Interrupted by my wispy form.
Graces your rosy cheek,
And you turn to where the winds came from.
Squinting through the blinding snow,
You stare right at me.
And for a moment I think you know,
That I am here, a winter's ghost.
This is a letter I found sitting in a desk drawer of an old house in the Genesee river country. Or at least that's how it reads.
(14/M/Rochester NY)
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