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.
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