Ghost

While crossing barrens last December night I saw a ghost in the scrubby growth of trees He was standing a strawman and I was in fright In the gibbous moon's diffident light. The world was an obscuring haze clouding my reason I padded along in muffled sound as if in a treason The spooky shade had a little glitch as if to ***** my neglected pitch In the lonely mist and stony haze I saw the winter season I traversed the field and reached a pool The ashgray fog was coming from the cool I had to wait for the break of the day To bask my edgy soul in the sun's first ray.