Monday, September 12, 2011

Last Night's Ghosts

Last Night's Ghosts

A little boy stands, stares,
points mutely at the wall.

Wings of secrets flutter
inside a wooden box
with a lid…

One woman is
under water.

No rushing, no pushing,
just shifting, fading.

An empty spot:
not “nothing” but
full of “missing.”

A man climbs a tree
to get home.

“You are the one thing
that will impede my progress
on this road.”

©JEF 2011

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