The Erl-king’s Pale Daughter

“O father, my father, and saw you not plain, The Erl-King’s pale daughter glide past thro’ the rain?” — “O yes, my loved treasure, I knew it full soon; It was the grey willow that danced to the moon.” Moonlit mist clinging to skin the color of ghost lilies, pearlescent and cold. A spectral musk possessing the sheen of river water at night.