Ilse Wissner

(Livonia, Michigan)

Triumph Of Spirit

Darkness was embracing fields and towns,
And trees had donned their hazy gowns.
They stood - their groping arms spread wide -
While ghostly bushes in shadows spied.

The wind on wings - with moaning voice -
Was touching my face with breath like ice.
A thousand demons - spawned by moonless night -
Shrewdly assailed with panic my mind.

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