THE SPECTRE

She comes to me at night.
Slowly, quietly, she walks by my side.
Not a word does she say.
I feel warm and happy,
Just knowing she is there.
I can sense the presence of love.
She turns to me and smiles.
In her eyes are tears.
I reach for her, but she is gone.

Dec. 5, 1978

© 2010 – 2013, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.

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