Monday, March 5, 2012

Grass Ghost

Oft in the silence of the night,
When the lonely moon rides high,
When wintry winds are whistling,
And we hear the owl's shrill cry,
In the quiet, dusky chamber,
By the flickering firelight,
Rising up between two sleepers,
Comes a spirit all in white.

Louisa May Alcott

Image by Emily Amelie.

Text source.