Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Ghosts



The fog and mist
collected lightly
on my skin
this morning.

I breathed in
the new day,
exhaled
yesterday's words
as I rounded
the bend.

In the early morning
darkness I gathered
up visions from
last night's dream.

You appeared
quite suddenly
and briefly near
the end and
wondered why
you continue
to do so.

Why would
you still come
at the end
and the beginning
of my days?

You have no
right to
interfere with
my life, still
elusive and
transparent
as this mist.

What have you
to tell me
this hour
that you cannot
tell me yourself?

You wish
to be with me
but won't?

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