Within the Fog

The moonlight shimmered on the winding road A chilled wind rolled to battle and smite Slicing through the fog and croaking toads There was a blood curdling scream heard that night The fog's hand choked the throat of graves, as it passed the stone bridge grasping its iron gate Tall stones stood like marbled guards that wait These sentries for death moonlight illuminates A caretaker's eyes welded to shadows moving slow A scream, a wolf's howl pierced to intervene, the dark wings that flew by a dead willow Frightened the caretaker, his imagination he gleans No one knows of the caretaker's fate, or of the shadowed wings he had seen At each full moon near halloween, a scream and wolf's call is heard pure and clean They say ghosts had risen in the fog in flight, by the stone bride with its iron gate There was a blood crudling scream heard that night contest Ghost Stories 10/23/14