Phantom Lovers

Phantom Lovers Where pallid wraiths gather in sylvan shade, Their whisperings sound in the grey cloaked air, As down fog walled paths to unsounding glade They walk, hand in hand, with muted footfall there. No shadows cross this dull and dampened land, No daylight infuses the hidden sky. No far distance beyond their chilled breath’s span As you and I glide, silent, passing by Long spent is the world of our secret tryst, A time apart when we would wander And so to find the place where we first kissed Where wetted leaves in gentle measure Drip and fogs of time enfold earth and sky, In this veiled and hidden world, you and I. Adapted from my poem 'Fog' (03/09/16) Barry Stebbings 10/29/18