The Poet Community

Haunted Grove | A Poem by Ken Allan Dronsfield

A walk tonight
down a slippery slope
winding down
like a long coiled rope.
A raven roosts
in the dying tree.
Singing my name,
like a tortured banshee.
Take my hand
lest ye fall or slide;
for it shall be a
long, raucous ride.
The full moon burns
through the fog above.
Hastening our walk through
the old haunted grove.



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