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Graveyard

They walk towards me and away from left to right, right to left, creating foreboding, in silence. It happens every time like images of rhyme, visible silent words - right to left, left to right at night towards me and away - creating that foreboding. I know they'll be here, in this shortcut, the way I take to my cottage. So strange what fear will do, such foreboding. Images master the mind. (Jul 2022)

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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Date: 7/20/2022 6:45:00 AM
Your poem, Andrew, captures the ghosts that trail us so precisely. Images of those lost remain. Be well. Brian
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Date: 7/4/2022 6:38:00 AM
That feeling you convey many can relate to in realm of the graveyard. Well done, Andrew.
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Date: 7/4/2022 3:00:00 AM
Love it! Mysterious and spiritual at the same time. Great use of imagery!
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things