Sunday, March 8, 2015


While walking in the morn, I met the mist
that still was hiding in the shadowed glen.
And though I said, “Hello!” it answered not
or in a language that I did not know.

For though I felt a breeze and just a touch
of chill that seemed to reach within my soul,
I did not linger long enough to figure out
what issued from that mist within that glen.

I fancied, as I neared the light, that there,
behind me to the right, a figure crept,
of stature small – that mist and shadows then
appeared to swallow when I turned my head.

And so I strove to hasten then my stride,
yet felt a shiver moving down my spine.
And when I stepped out in the morning light,
within a clearing, I was glad indeed.

And later, I was told, there lived within
that narrow valley, rarely touched by sun,
a being – last of those who’d lived before,
who now were gone, whilst leaving only him.
So was it fancy, or a living thing –
perhaps of human or of fairy kind?
I do not know, but still I will not go
again alone within that wooded glen.

2015 March 8th, Sun.
Brooklyn, New York

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