poet

Here is a ghost lost in the night

Here is a ghost lost in the night,
hearing her own voice as
the voice of someone else. She has been
taken into the stories of a stranger.
So she stands, her arms outstretched
and listens to the words spoken
through her lips.

The clouds hang heavy with rain.

Here is a ghost lost in the night.
She is haunted by so many voices
that she forgot her own.
So she stands, her arms outstretched
palms turned upwards
to catch the rain that falls.

Every puddle is a mirror.

Sparrows on telephone wires
wind on the leaves
the moonlit silence of a thousand souls asleep.
Here is a ghost lost in the night,
too late for the last train.

The ghost looks down, and sees a stranger's face.

Sparrows on telephone wires
fly into the trees.
Here is a ghost lost in the night,
telling a story that no one will hear.
Here you are. Listen in silence.

A Kiss from a Ghost

A kiss from a ghost, the pale moon burns
and the sea goes out. The dead will find you,
their mouths full of birds, their eyes full of salt.
Look at the world and see how it’s not yours,
the white hands like smoke on the shore where they rest.
The sun is a bird caught in a branch and the world
is its dying song. You are this branch and I am the bird
and I can’t stop singing. Your branches spread into me;
the birds gather in my throat as if they could be words.