LATE EVENING
Fog over cold fields,
Grey ghosts in tall trees,
Mist shadows flouncing
Into blurred and starry air,
Making shapes like ghosts
Slowly falling.
All silent and quietly beautiful.
Until bus headlights
Disturb this late evening,
Catching the cat jumping
The frost rimed fence,
Its sharp little teeth
Tearing the fog into tiny bits,
Eating even tinier pieces.
Next door’s dog kicking up a fuss.
Barking, yelping, growling.
Threatened by what it couldn’t see.
Just like us.
But that’s the ghosts gone,
For sure.
Until they come back later
To haunt us.
©2024 Gwen Grant
Poems by Gwen Grant 
This is such a beautiful poem, Gwen.
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Thank you so much. Glad you liked it!
Gwen .
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Lovely Gwen! Cute cat photo! Really enjoyed your D H Lawrence poem previously! He is my favourite writer of that era!
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Thanks, Sharon. Lawrence was such a writer! Glad you liked the poems.
Gwen.
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Oh, the things that go on in the night!
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I like to think that they do!
Gwen.
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You are welcome, Gwen.
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Nice poem! I liked the line “Grey ghosts in tall trees“. Thanks for sharing.
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