Eat Bread

I saw a ghost eat bread and it was black bread yet white shone its beard venerable and holy in the moon's light and in the trembling light of receding stars. aye! the night be beautiful though it be one long drama of horror act on act scene on scene climaxing towards end in bathos fleeing at the Dawn's fast light that early sails and permeates the first of day. I saw the grey eyes of a sullen ghost Blue were the tears of a swollen shroud there was a waltz and strong Wagnerian tones and notes Wagnerian notes and and and tombs they opened as houses in the morning they opened in the night under the stars below the curious moon the aching sighs of Souls and Inner Souls a-pattering: aching sighing aching be this the stolid nights so many night as in so many centuries be these? be these? I wandered in the cemetery in thought yet I lost not one scene as scene on scene scene after scene they wafted as the wind into the tunnel whence any return will they not all awhile three ghosts and shrouds fight friendly towards the edge of night where its eyes hide from sight of Dawn