Ghost

GHOST

And so, in the splendour of

The winter leaves, black, yellow, rusty golds –

Where are you?

Why do you haunt me on each path?

I wonder where you are, and a door

Flies open in the wind.

Your shadow sits opposite me on the couch,

I cannot toss you off –

Cannot trudge through you ---

Or make you go away.

Hoping you are the fallen branch,

I climb over, or the dog running in the other direction,

Or the light fading through the bare branches

Of white birches.

Why won’t you disappear ---

And leave me to the forest,

To the pleasures of here,

To my own lonely terror?