Just Passing Through

The cold midnight clear
as silent yellow noontime
nothing moved except from the lair
the ghoulish figure gliding above
an inch of tainted air
whiffs of odour permeate
like nightmare of old
from yellowing pillowcases
the air disturbed recoils
from the figure of dread untold
unspoken by petrified tongues
it glides

A hand un-fleshed
peeks from folds
of greenish putrid sleeves
reaches out to touch
caressing so tender
fresh midnight air in broad moonlight
almost forgotten yet hungrily
it seeks to feel once more
the pulses of life
of those watching with frightened
eyes or hear with fey ears
the deathly groans

The groans of remorse
from a decayed dead lover
at one time mother
at another a wife
remorse for life gone sour
lived without pleasure
until the last hour
when scythe-man came and reaped
the body off its soul
and now once more she traipses
through the paths of the living
an hour and no more, cease the haunting….