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.
Copyright © Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty | Year Posted 2014
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