Two things I did on Hallows Night:— Made my house April-clear; Left open wide my door To the ghosts of the year. Then one came in. Across the room It stood up long and fair— The ghost that was myself— And gave me stare for stare.
Lizette Woodworth Reese
The wind stooped down and wrote a sweet, small word, But the snow fell, and all the writing blurred: Now, the snow gone, we read it as we pass,— The wind’s word in the grass.