Ghost

Ghosts hide in the room
as orbs, as mist or shapes
as voices, disembodied
or floating, whispering
secrets to the living.
Ghostchildren play
hide and seek, (out the door
the harmless phantom glides,)
trying to make contact with the
living, through seances, through
spiritboards. We must listen, to them
crying, talking, screaming. Children,
dead, play with toys, floating in midair.
Still the victorian ghostly mother rocks her
dead stillborn babe, and dead lovers are embraced
from hereafter. Ghosts crowd the house, the mansion,
and work there still, tending to the garden and to household
chores. One can see a candle floating in the air, in the
haunted house. One can hear them softly singing, as they
weave and sow. You can hear footsteps, or stale perfume,
when no onés there. You can see the mists, and the shape of a man
and a woman, unlocking all the doors, making sure, making sure.
Pictures (Victorian) of the dead, spirit photography. The magazines,
with pictures of ghosts, and ghoststories. Old, decripit mansions,
abandoned, and vacant, with ghosts. A ghostly hand reaching out through
a door, making contact. Flowers fading, when ghost passes by. The
night is their time, when the victorian clock strikes twelve, they appear.
Faded paint, old barred windows.. Skeletons, denying the fact of bones.
Ethereal air. The spirit world around this world of sense. Hold hands and
partake in the seance. Ghost, murdered. The closet door opens. A ghostgirl
playing hide and seek, in my yard. Orbit of mirrors. The emptiness of a mirror,
until you´re not alone, and begging for release. Ghosts knocking on doors,
spectral touch.