Street sight is long,
Run by the forlorn.
A cloud settling across,
Street mastered by a turn, as ghosts come and go.
Darkness one thinks she sees.
Ghosts flashing across trees, deafening cries of the lost souls from purgatory,
Lingering in her mind the fraternity,
Their callings exciting the moon
And along comes the white and spot of lunar light and valleys of doom,
There she finds rambling, the day languishing, but not in the heart of someone lying down.
Curious she bent Surprised to find one who rose to meet her, with a crown.
The light brighter than before. Enlightened, wonder-awed, by the face,
She fell into the calm, the breeze behind.
And saw the street unlike before.