Another ghostly poem from my past.


Silver slivers of moonlight
Slice through naked branches
Seeking out shades and shadows
A spotlight on the world beyond
Where death does not dwell in darkness
But returns to display itself
In the shape of an unquiet soul

A spirit unseen, unheard, except
By screech owl and demon bat
Whose eyes follow the intruder
With curiosity, knowing
The veil has been pierced
And they are in the company
Of what lies beyond

In turn, the wind whispers
Its own welcome
And the shade pauses
Appears to listen
Before drifting on
Towards another voice
That has been calling

… and calling

… and calling

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