The spirit in the mist, hovers by in a drift.
from a realm where vapor is the norm.
High overhead in their usual homestead,
is the formation of a coming storm.
The clouds "swallow" the mountain
and then "spits" it back out....
Will it go from wince it came or
will it travel another route?
Reigning from above like a "Spectral king".
Casting torrents of rain on every living thing.
Eventually the sun always chases the spirit away.
but it shall return again to "haunt" the mountain someday....



Poem copyrighted by Bo Bandy.

© Getty & Fey.
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