I remember a quaint and chilly fall afternoon
When the Sun was beginning to lie a little low,
and I decided to go exploring with my infant
daughter in my Arms. There was a strange
old Shaker Barn with rotting timbers
on its stairs and in its high loft. I wove my way
in and out of shadows and trod so carefully
with each footstep, climbing through Stairs
and Shadows and Time.
I, in my lovely Dark Suit, and with
my Precious Child held So Close, was
Unaware of being Watched.
Later I learned that Mysterious and Watchful
Person had thought I was an old Shaker Ghost
carrying her forbidden child. There had been
just enough of a touch of mystery in the fall
air that I could not be sure whether it was me
who had been quietly observed or a shadow.
