How Grey, How Grey The Evening Grew
E
Emmanuel George Cefai
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How grey, how grey the evening grew
The sky was cloudless yet its grey
Reflected on the stones, the day
Seemed in its sweet agony of disease
Its half-opened lips to slowly close
Slowly, slowly, slowly.
And then of sudden lo! I saw
A phantom grey the stairs ascend
The face I saw not, from behind
A tall thin form it was:
And as it moved up up the stairs
Its step moved speedily:
And as swift as it came was lost
No sound it made, no voice
It brake: yet in my heart
A throbbing made
That never was before.
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