Shadow From The Past

Beneath our oak

Lies a shadow

Of a stranger past.
Only a silhouette
To dictate stories,
Stories of times
Long gone from now.
I think it’s a lady
A lady who stoops.
She is only there 
For me,

Feeding my imagination.
To tell of regret.
To seek forgiveness,  
In my presence.
For all the hurt,
Just years ago.
To free my tortured mind.

I feel the chill of days past..
Shall I?

© munster 2020
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no comments or critique sought.
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