2d
Fog - by D. B. Sullivan
Wrought iron gates with heavy lock,
Guard departed souls wherein, stalk
The Earth with restless quiescence,
Opaque, spectral evanescence.
Wispy, fleeting, with muffled moans,
Haunting rows of sullen tombstones.
Mourning in deathly dreaminess,
Exanguinated sleepiness.
I’ve seen them there, silent shadows,
Wandering the lonesome meadows.
In the mist and past the churchyard,
You’ll see where the ground has been scarred,
With rectangular pits, waiting,
To be filled, anticipating,
The newly deceased mothers,
Fathers, sisters and brothers.
Crypts with bars and family names,
Gather soot from pyre flames.
Apparitions wandering,
With eternal pondering.
Look into the ghostly smog,
And you’ll see them in the fog.
Wrought iron gates with heavy lock,
Guard departed souls wherein, stalk
The Earth with restless quiescence,
Opaque, spectral evanescence.
Wispy, fleeting, with muffled moans,
Haunting rows of sullen tombstones.
Mourning in deathly dreaminess,
Exanguinated sleepiness.
I’ve seen them there, silent shadows,
Wandering the lonesome meadows.
In the mist and past the churchyard,
You’ll see where the ground has been scarred,
With rectangular pits, waiting,
To be filled, anticipating,
The newly deceased mothers,
Fathers, sisters and brothers.
Crypts with bars and family names,
Gather soot from pyre flames.
Apparitions wandering,
With eternal pondering.
Look into the ghostly smog,
And you’ll see them in the fog.
Copyright ©2025 by D B Sullivan. All rights reserved. This work may not be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
