Faint rustle of the breeze
dead leaves, twigs blow down
Is it only I in the dark of the night
or do other souls too move about?
Hearken, attentive O comrade
here a shadow and there a glint
the beings that dwell in a land not far, slip out a subtle, gentle hint.
Who on this stormy night is back
door of a home long deserted swings,
what business unfinished they seek
whose laughter rings loud in the wind?
May 7, 2019
May 7, 2019 at 10:26 AM UTC
Faint rustle of the breeze
dead leaves, twigs blow down
Is it only I in the dark of the night
or do other souls too move about?
Hearken, attentive O comrade
here a shadow and there a glint
the beings that dwell in a land not far, slip out a subtle, gentle hint.
Who on this stormy night is back
door of a home long deserted swings,
what business unfinished they seek
whose laughter rings loud in the wind?
A little tale of the supernatural for those silent nights.
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