Misty Miles


Wearily stumbling, I looked back down the misty path.

The rocky track, showed no pursuers.

Relieved, my shattered body took up the pack.

After another mile, I peered again.

In the mist fiery torches shone.

The light came on and on.

I slid down the scree and it was gone.

About Lindsay Craik

Writer & Poet Poetry, plays and short stories
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