I see him at my window tonight.
The moon, full and bright
Casts his dark shadow onto an icy wall.
A familiar silhouette, unmistakable,
Pressed against the pane.
The cold melts his breath into feathery diamonds
Running in thin veins down the thick glass.
His face, hidden and veiled in black
Glances my way and nods;
I nod back
Acceptingly. Suddenly,
The glass no longer divides,
Inside with me and glancing forward
Towards my funeral bed.
My head, frozen, near death
Funnels my sight towards him.
His thin frame stops at my side.
The immortal guide
Reaching his ancient hand towards mine,
Soon to be part of the fabrics
Of time.
And as the warmth of my life turns to frost,
Acceptingly.  Suddenly,
I am lost.



Giants of the Earth ►


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Ann Foxglove

Sun 20th Jan 2013 12:08

I love the last three lines especially. Good, spooky stuff!

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M.C. Newberry

Tue 15th Jan 2013 18:13

Chilling and aware - an unsettling nod to our mortality, made even more interesting by the youthful image above the title. This could take its place in any ghost story worth the name!

tony sheridan

Tue 15th Jan 2013 00:01

Soon to be part of the fabrics of time. Great line.! Great poem! Take care, Tony.

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