Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

shades (Remove filter)

A dream itself is but a shadow

In the grey cloudlight of a pre-dawn moon

something stayed my dream

a stray insistent noise heard through sleep

the uncertain call of the hunting owl:

I am knelt naked at the window -

beneath, the frosted grass glimmers in the pale creamglow

hazy through the early swirls of mist

but not a shade or waft disturbs the spectral scene

although my flesh seems chilled by some slig...

Read and leave comments (2)

dreamsghostsHamletmoonlightowlsphantasmsshades

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message