The Ghost of Donna Lou
In the early morning fog
just bypassing the tunnel
the click click of stiletto’s
long pale legs barely covered
in a red backless mini dress
her slender silhouette vanishes
gossip in the neighborhood
says she’s trying to get home
the ghost of Donna Lou
never finds its way back
her cheap perfume lingers
at crossroads with her killer
she was a young prostitute
on the streets of New York
Voices of Ghosts