GHOSTS
The ghost of Christmas future, the ghost
of Christmas past. The ghost
of Hamlet’s father, the ghost
of Poe’s Lenore. The ghost
caught in a tree of burning fireflies. The ghost
with eyes of coal.
The ghost with missing fingers.
The ghost who knows your name.
Ghosts, swaying, drunk on memory.
The ghost of winter, settling
on you slowly. The ghost
of love, the ghost of loveliness
That ghost, your heart, invisible as absence,
sad as hope.
A wonderful play on words, Karen. A delight to read.
“Sad as hope” is a very touching line…
Past your words a reality, living remnants of what was, so well brought back to our now by your writing. Wonderful
Reblogged this on Niltsi's Spirit and commented:
A living remnants of what was, so well brought back to our now by her wonderful words.
Thanks so much, Loner. I appreciate it!
Reblogged this on thomasmcdermottimmortal.