Ghosts, by William H. Simpson


Ghosts of the early earth!
The sly coyote knows you,
And the timid deer.
I asked the eagle, circling skyward,
And saw your twin shadows.
The fox looks everywhere
And calls you brother.   Was it your whisper,
Your mocking whisper,
Among the twisted cedars?   Or only the tired winds,
Cuddling on the cool breasts of evening? - William H. Simpson

William H. Simpson