When He Shows

A bright day
turns to shadows and shades quickly
whenever the ghost
shows. Floats across the ceiling
then, suddenly holts
before me.

Unknowing
how to shift I
pause and stare
into his tomb-like
face. Feet resist
to step back, eyes
don’t fight to close, mouth
won’t say a sound. Puzzled by
our silent talk, in my mind
no thoughts seem to come
across. Nothing
heard, no words said. For the

moment, frozen
in time is how

I am.
So, does that mean
too, I am
dead?





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback