Autumn’s breath is descending, coating my skin. My fingers are sticky with carmel and night’s dust are speckles on my eyelids. Outside, ghosts wander through the fog, phantoms in the night. I light a fire in the hearth to keep their shadows away. 
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Shadows
Autumn’s breath is descending, coating my skin. My fingers are sticky with carmel and night’s dust are speckles on my eyelids. Outside, ghosts wander through the fog, phantoms in the night. I light a fire in the hearth to keep their shadows away.
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