Ghostly Echoes

Wooden covered bridge

Footsteps echo like ghosts.
Dust clogs the air, and
breezes rattle webs then
spin brown leaves
into dry devils.
Sentry swallows
dive from eaves,
startling us into
thumping dance steps:
one forward and two back.
A tiny beak chirps
from a mud cup.
The mother snaps
mosquitoes from midair,
hovering by the nest
like a tiny dragon,
eyes aflame with purpose.
We pace forward cautiously,
no longer sure of our primacy.
We emerge in sunshine,
glad to walk quietly.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: We may build the bridge, but the folk who live there own it. Do you ever feel the past hanging heavily over a place?

The Elves

Daniel has a treat for us with a vivid picture and a magical verse. I hope you have time to visit his beautiful site. It’s worth a look. Have a great week! Warmly, Brenda

Dan Frugalberg

There amidst the undergrowth, or high the forest top,

Where the birds, they gather, or the hills, their rocky crop.

With faintly steps, discerning, nary a rest or stop,

See the elves, they’re scurrying! Wings and feet, a hop!

~ D.F.

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