Ghosts - The French Bed-Sitter Poem by Paul Warren

It was quite a cold and chilly afternoon
The icy wind was blowing in the gloom
We were on a self drive rental car holiday
Through the French countryside in our stay

The weather got so bad we had to go to ground
We decided to stay in the next bed sitter we found
We were awake talking until night came with no dread
Finally we went to our room up the stairs to bed

Early in the morning I heard steps walk across the room
So I sat up in bed rubbing my eyes away in the gloom
I got out of bed and went across and opened the door
The steps continued out onto the stairway to the ground floor

Just as I reached the bottom on the staircase I looked around
I went to the kitchen I saw an old French woman looking down
She was looked up from her work and smiled in my direction
About the same time she disappeared in dawn light's deflection.

© Paul Warren Poetry