Ghost Moon

She pulled aside the curtain...
Or did it pull her? She wasn't certain...
Like a slip before the fall,
The answer before the call,
She felt him.
April moons slid into November,
With love tucked away remembered,
As death gave way to fresh December...

Now in the softly misted glow
Across the icy crusted snow,
She gazes into the distance
And listens...
Still he haunts her in this way,
In words of velvet silver grey,
A soul of blue, and eyes ablaze,
And violet passions in the haze...

Late at night she heard him there--
...sweet ghost music in the air...

c. elyzsia 2002.


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