Megan's Blog City Journal

Crisp Path, December Snow, Ghosts

Prompt: Write a story or poem from Dylan using this quote as inspiration. Have fun!

"The crisp path through the field in this December snow, in the deep dark, where we trod the buried grass like ghosts on dry toast." Dylan Thomas, Quite Early One Morning: Stories

There is a place called the Red Brush in a small
town in Indiana where Al Capone buried dead bodies.
I hear on a foggy, snowy night, you can see shadows
and mists resembling people in a crisp path by corn fields.

Ghosts on dry toast. In this case, ghosts on dry land or
snow. Spooky? Probably. I have never been over there at night.
I live in the country. It can be spooky. I will take my chances
in the country and avoid the big city scene. No thanks! I like
it here. Deep, dark woods whose mysteries remain hidden and secret.

Al Capone used to hang around this area in between bank robberies.
Who knows what other secrets and bodies are buried? I wonder if Dylan
Thomas has been here and see the bodies of mist, in the deep dark, where
we trod the buried grass like ghosts on dry toast. Food for thought.

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