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Sonnet

Rating: 2.9

(Suggested by some of the Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research)


Not with vain tears, when we’re beyond the sun,
We’ll beat on the substantial doors, nor tread
Those dusty high-roads of the aimless dead
Plaintive for Earth; but rather turn and run
Down some close-covered by-way of the air,
Some low sweet alley between wind and wind,
Stoop under faint gleams, thread the shadows, find

Some whispering ghost-forgotten nook, and there
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7/24/2021 3:37:43 AM # 1.0.0.663