A Ghost is Made

A Ghost is Made

A Poem by JustPlainHere
"

. . .

"
A past version of the self
phases in and out of you with the colder sun
of yesterday, the height of buildings.
It finished off at a milestone
and escaped in a breath.
When the time comes
there are two or three
as they merge together.

But for now, the sing-song in your voice
as you crack the binding
of an album
doesn't recognize itself
as it points to itself,
and you sometimes think
of places you'd lived
as ruins.
The ghost
crouches in your head
as it waits for a recount,

but all you have are moments.
You hang a cup on a rack to dry,
and your arm
wants to swing into a dance,
but it was the ghost;
it has gone on without you,
and your feet
aren't sure they're worthy
anymore.
You think of the times you danced

but they're already full of
mostly sky,
and stars,

are shades of a color now - electric wires
sinking into your nearsightedness,
telephone poles rising, the street
dragging the blue with it.

You try to squint and stare into the distance
as the train gets close,
but you remember the airhorn
as it sounds.
You hadn't heard it in so long,
and it vouches for you.

© 2024 JustPlainHere


Author's Note

JustPlainHere
Friendly critique welcome.

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Reviews

Beautiful poem. Enjoyed reading

Posted 5 Months Ago


For me this is once upon a time Self catching up on now, all in fin phrasing and a subtle use of metaphor..

Your Ghost seems to be a harmless one but reminds what used to be simple but now tales a forethought and effort. Great quote,

'You hang a cup on a rack to dry,
and your arm
wants to swing into a dance,
but it was the ghost;
it has gone on without you,
and your feet
aren't sure they're worthy
anymore.
You think of the times you danced'

Delighted to find your imaginative skill

Posted 5 Months Ago



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55 Views
2 Reviews
Added on January 20, 2024
Last Updated on January 20, 2024
Tags: Poem, Poetry, Freeverse, Freeform, Spiritual, Humannature, Nature

Author

JustPlainHere
JustPlainHere

FL



About
Poets on life: “Oh, must we dream our dreams and have them, too?” ― Elizabeth Bishop “Art is the child of nature in whom we trace the features of the mothers face.&rdqu.. more..

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