(B&W [Polaroid] Impossible Project film).
THERE is wind where the rose was,
Cold rain where sweet grass was,
And clouds like sheep
Stream o'er the steep
Grey skies where the lark was.
Nought warm where your hand was,
Nought gold where your hair was,
But phantom, forlorn,
Beneath the thorn,
Your ghost where your face was.
Cold wind where your voice was,
Tears, tears where my heart was,
And ever with me,
Child, ever with me,
Silence where hope was.
Walter de la Mare
When the sound became audible again, it was no longer in the upstairs
bedroom but had moved downstairs to the boy’s bedroom. It was heard as
the sound of squeaking shoes along the bed and was heard only at night
when the boy went to bed. The squeaking sound continued for six nights,
on the sixth night scratching again was audible.
A new series on Destination America. Seemed packed with planted evidence, but it was a fun ride. A bunch of mountain men from Appalachian Investigators of Mysterious Sightings were hunting the Kentucky Wolf Man.
They didn't find him.