by Frank Hubeny

My memory is like gray rolling hills
where smoke and ash and haunting dragons hide
the sins I have forgotten through my pride
and could repeat should pleasure offer thrills.
The consequences though would give me chills
were I aware. Main paths are much too wide.
The narrow one’s too slippery? May I slide
into the hands of God whose Spirit fills.

Linda Kruschke offers new Paint Chip phrases for this week’s octave. Eugenia offers “haunting” as her Thursday Prompt.


2 Comments to “Haunting”

  1. Frank, this is an excellent octave and your words send a worthy message.

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