Smoky Hoss

(01 may 1962 / U.S.A.)

Ghost


Sometimes I see you
standing all alone out there.
I smile and wave, as you vanish
into thin air.

A distant wind comes calling
to whisper a sweet ageless echo in my quiet ear,
in it I feel a warm breeze
... a breath drawing near.

I sense a simple presence
all around,
and feel light footfalls
upon the golden ground.

In the noonday sun
or the blue-moon of midnight,
a tender touch I know I know
pours down holding me long and tight.

The ghost
like endless memories of a certain kind,
comes to abide the empty cooridors
of my lonesome and fragile mind.

Submitted: Thursday, November 07, 2013
Edited: Saturday, November 09, 2013

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