poem – Ghosts

You never know what kind of ghosts you are going to meet. Some only come out at night. Some are less discreet. Some fade into the background. Some feed on our fear. Some are like objects in the mirror. They are closer than they appear. Some mess with the temperature. Some rearrange the shelves. Some of them get so bored they start to haunt themselves. Some of them keep their distance. Some try to earn our trust. After a while some of them start to look like us.


This is what we do. We clean up. We sing like strangers. We open a window now and then for advice. We change paths when they lose their way. We bargain for one more hour of light. We make our wounds less noticeable. We find a dream that fits. We exchange glances that don’t. We get smooth. We get covered up. We fall away and come together. We get it right now and then. We get reckless for a while. We clean up again.