Moonlight reflects on her pale skin. She dances barefoot in the dewed wet grass. Mist is hanging low in the sky. Her brown curls bounce, her muffled laugh rings. She dances around tombstones, her finger tips run along their stone faces. Her eyes bright blue, and filled with hapiness. Thick dark lashes frame her young eyes. Her dress slowly blows back from her dance. She turns gracefully, her feet never stopping. Once or twice she closes her eyes only to open them and stare at me. A child she is, no more then ten. And she stops once to stare. Her eyes locking right into mine, the silence is dreadful then I awake from sleeping.