The Beginning

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I am almost afraid of the wind out there.

The dead leaves skip on the porches bare,

The windows clatter and whine.

I sit here in the quiet house. low-lit.

With the clock that ticks and the books that stand.

Wise and silent, on every hand.

Ghosts

by Fannie Stearns Davis

Goblin (Old and Unedited)Waar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu