Tags
#poetry, death, dorindaduclos.com, eerie, evil, Grayson Place, Night Owl Poetry, poems, shadows, spirit, village, writing
The House on Grayson Place ~ The Disappearance

Hidden under her veil of black
Coat slung over her shoulder
No one sees her, as she moves about
Her clothes, from days, much older
She holds a scroll, in both her hands
Or is it something else she clasps
She watches, as others drift on by
Still, no one stops and asks
Ms. Grayson, hides in the shadows
Where she will never leave a trace
Laughs, at all the village folk
An evil sneer, still, upon her face
©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0
Excellent piece. Well done.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you very much! 🙂
LikeLike
Fabulous writing. ☺❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you very much! ❤
LikeLike
Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for reblogging!! ❤
LikeLike
As in so many of your poems, I can imagine her!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nasty old woman that she is…wonder what’s next for her 😉 Thank you, Cathi!
LikeLiked by 1 person