Ghostly Cries Through the Gray


Sun slowly rises, casting indirect light on it’s way

Fog caresses fields, wrapping its arms and blankets ‘round the trees

You can hear ghostly cries echoing through the gray

Trees whisper prayers with each of their fallen leaves


This is catching up from Feb 19th and The Daily Post’s prompt of Fog, form of elegy and device of metaphor.  So, this is a sort of remake of one of my earlier posts.  So, if it’s my own reblogged photography and a spin-off from an earlier poetic blog post, is it considered cheating?  Is it too much rhyme?  Does it really not matter that it’s off rhythm?  It bothers me a little.  Perhaps if I didn’t feel such a strong urge to force the rhyme, it would have flowed easier.



Author: Carol B Sessums

Writer, Editor, Coffee Addict, Lover of Mountains. Lives to shrink the planet, one story and connection at a time.

5 thoughts on “Ghostly Cries Through the Gray”

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