Second April — Wraith

WRAITH

"Thin Rain, whom are you haunting, That you haunt my door?"

--Surely it is not I she's wanting;

Someone living here before-- "Nobody's in the house but me: You may come in if you like and see."

Thin as thread, with exquisite fingers,-- Have you seen her, any of you?

-- Grey shawl, and leaning on the wind, And the garden showing through?

Glimmering eyes,--and silent, mostly, Sort of a whisper, sort of a purr, Asking something, asking it over, If you get a sound from her.

-- Ever see her, any of you?

-- Strangest thing I've ever known,-- Every night since I moved in, And I came to be alone.

"Thin Rain, hush with your knocking!

You may not come in!

This is I that you hear rocking;

Nobody's with me, nor has been!"

Curious, how she tried the window,-- Odd, the way she tries the door,-- Wonder just what sort of people Could have had this house before .

.

.