Member Poem

When street lights dim wry night ghosts peep,
on black ice pavement scroll sculpted deep,
snow ring  pillow image so  bright,
wee small hour spirit’s delight,
they thrive in spooky alley ways,
hover over lambent ripple bays,
eavesdroppers alert to veiled fib,
charcoal skyline vanishing bib,
things go bump as weird noises taunt,
shadows are their nocturnal haunt