The frame of ghostly light within
Glowing, dark and cold
Sights its lonely, now begin,
Re-balanced, through its fold:
Our found, unnerved, deserted space
From sunken graves reborn
Sounds it’s brazen, silent chase
Through resplendent, scowls of scorn:
Of onward, slight, in downward cross
Unleashed, to fling its fight
Dons it’s shadow, echo loss
To a once, remembered light.
Hat Tip: “The House of Ghosts” – Margaret Widdemer