Early Yesterday Morn

Early yesterday morn, Just before the coming, darkening storm, While watching its preceding wind rustle the leaves, I heard a constant whistling rendered through the eaves. Whilst it’s piping breath filled my mind and ear, Commingled with a whisper, Seemingly neither far or near, My eyes beheld something only described as specter. Standing just beyond the outer fringes of the moor, There seemed to be a shadow with a human contour; Neither swaying with the buffeting gale Or taking notice to me or the winds rising wail. For some length, motionless and undisturbed, I watched and pondered; Strangely, rebelling against natural instinct, unperturbed: Not in the least bit floundered. Early yesterday morn, Just after the passing, dark storm, While feeling faith and facing that that I abhor, Myself ready for the burial of her I adore, Whispery echoes of “I love you” whimsically soar, To my ears, from the outer fringes of the moor.