Monday, 9 March 2015

When Ghosts Leave Footprints



Gypsum powder
on red stairs.

Follow the ash.
Sweep dust
from stone.
Throw windows open.

Here is a path
through the gorse.
Yellow flowers
with a coconut perfume:
such exotic spice
on a prosaic wind.

A man plods the path, sun on neck
earth on hands. What he later says
makes it into the history books.

And here is the book
bound in a moss cover.

As I have no body,
I’ll leave you
to turn to the right page.

4 comments:

  1. I like that, "As I have no body" very shocking.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you for letting me know, and for reading my poems, Susan.

      Delete
  2. Thanks for reading my poems! Really, you are the number one reader of them--thanks!

    ReplyDelete

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