Haunted Nightly Poem by james watkin

Haunted Nightly



A seeming improbability.
How I again trace
Night hours, the forgotten of face.
With sharper details.

Tis not that odd a fact really.
When come out to haunt
Ghosts. Be they, whom from its past, taunt.
And who's housed peace ails.

Thursday, May 4, 2023
Topic(s) of this poem: night,memory
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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