Posted by: Ron DuBour | February 15, 2018

The Ghost Of Her~by Neil Perry



The Ghost Of Her

Maybe it was the ghost of her
Upon that winter’s day,
Standing in her coat and fur
That made me look away
Fearing it was really her
With ghostly look of grey
Holding what was close to her
And could not move away;

I hurried on, with quickened speed
In case she followed me,
I would not say that I was scared
But did not want to see
Her haunting face, just as I feared
Start staring back at me,
So hurried on, as she appeared
To mock the sight of me.

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