Swirling mists,
and deep,
dark
shadows.
Shadows
that aren’t shadows at all
but appear
with familiar hazy forms,
hiding in corners
of quiet rooms,
waiting
with long
ghostly fingers
for
unsuspecting
victims.
Whispery,
quiet voices
that rasp or giggle,
a tap on the shoulder
or sometimes
a deep throaty growl
in pitch blackness.
Yet I,
seek to know the answers,
of why you are here,
seek to find
where you have gone,
to find those who
have gone before,
and those still
with stories to tell.
But be careful
of what you seek in the
eerie, unnerving silence
for you may find
that curiosity
is a devouring
lover.
© Joyce (Tidwell) Burns, ChynaMoon Creations 1997-2011
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