Out Of The Mist

Out of the mist
It reaches with icy fingers
While its cape drags upon the ground

Creeping from the mist
It sends a chill over the land
Dark to those that see it

The mist is gone
The land cold and still
All around there is no one

Slowly a flicker of light
Sends a small warm glow
The cape begins to move

The mist begins to melt
Warmth begins to grow
Blackness begins to fade

by Jim Ward

Other poems of JIM WARD (1)

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