I know you don't 
want to think of me.

I don't want to 
think of you either.

But the more I resist, 
the more your ghost 
persists. 

It makes no sense.

Hardly a day goes

by that you don’t  
cross my mind.

Some days 
it infuriates me
that someone who 
pushed me over the cliff 

of obscurity

has a choke hold 
on my soul.

Other days 
I accept
what I cannot 
compr...

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Twas the night before Christmas

When starless darkness held the night

With howling wind and sleet;

All through the house was ne'er a light

Dark, and a door that creaked

And despite the fire, twas cold as snow

Only the low fire flicker

Could lend the room a ghostly glow

And light the undecked tree.

I crept towards the bottom stair

Mouse-still and watching

A creak, a...

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A fiendish reminder that the past

is around and within us

A memory, a mood

a startled cry, a stifled laugh

worm their way into our weary hearts

and we fade into a history reborn

The ghosts dormant and still

awaken in that undefended moment.

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Above The Light Of The Morning Star

Pity the dark eyed man who chases sleep.

Yet, pity more, the man who finds that realm

and dances with his friends, long gone,

then wakes to find such loneliness in his heart.

A father’s hand laid gently on his shoulder

or a mothers kiss to say farewell on leaving.

These are the magic lanterns

of the ghosts that are their ghosts.

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They say we carry the dead with us,

And most are surprised by the weight.

We hoist them up on our shoulders,

And imagine our strength is adequate.

But invariably we fault and stumble.

We stagger and trip and fall

We can’t see a way out of this trouble

Each partition becomes a wailing wall

We drop them in the middle of our marriage.

We trip over them when we try...

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When I have gone

what waits this room

with its vacuum

                where I sat?

Does

my chair sits sightless

musing at my absence

midst space bereft

                   my music play on?

After I have left

ask my empty bed

all sheeted void

                about my dreams

Does

my mattress dent

minding my long night wraiths

maintain my ...

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In the grey cloudlight of a pre-dawn moon

something stayed my dream

a stray insistent noise heard through sleep

the uncertain call of the hunting owl:

I am knelt naked at the window -

beneath, the frosted grass glimmers in the pale creamglow

hazy through the early swirls of mist

but not a shade or waft disturbs the spectral scene

although my flesh seems chilled by some slig...

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This old farm cottage of mine

keeps all my years safe

for it knows my secret ways

and remembers

There are shadows in the shadows

but in some rooms

my sons have hidden smiles

to lead me in

There is more solitude indoors

but here and there

she has retained a past caress

to warm me

The old mirror we found at market

still retains her ghost

which...

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