Ghost Story Part XIV

On the third day

She clung to the handrails

Near the door

All the way back

Zigzagging in knots

Shining incandescent

With the sun

Chained to a swing

Piled in drifts

Of faces

Marching on and off

Almost invisible

To the way she

Clung herself

Constantly trying

To get my attention

Like tapping on

A dirty window

And only successing

On the way out

Like a feather on the wind

Breathless in an unfinished flight.

Author's Note

this is one poem from my napwrimo series of 30 ghost poems. get in touch if you want to read the rest online free.