#poetry
ghosted
in the teeth of a black night
i sat in the study
with a smoke and a brandy
contemplating the wreckage of my life
when the ghost of love appeared
and settled himself into a wing chair
following each puff and sip
with envious eyes
ghosted
in the teeth of a black night
i sat in the study
with a smoke and a brandy
contemplating the wreckage of my life
when the ghost of love appeared
and settled himself into a wing chair
following each puff and sip
with envious eyes
i smiled and rising crossed the room
waving the cigarette and the snifter
under his nose
his laughter the echo of silence
as he reached for me
his long lucent arms circling my legs
as if to pull me into his lap
waving the cigarette and the snifter
under his nose
his laughter the echo of silence
as he reached for me
his long lucent arms circling my legs
as if to pull me into his lap
i leaned into his transparency
feeling the heat of whatever was left of him
and he shattered into the music of forever
next i knew it was morning
cruel sunlight filling the room
with the promise of another day
and as i picked myself up off the floor
feeling the heat of whatever was left of him
and he shattered into the music of forever
next i knew it was morning
cruel sunlight filling the room
with the promise of another day
and as i picked myself up off the floor
i caught a whiff of eternity
© 2021 RC deWinter
Published in “Lost Cause” by Open: Journal of Arts & Letters @ojalart January 2022
Some people go to priests, others to poetry. ~ Virginia Woolf
© 2021 RC deWinter
Published in “Lost Cause” by Open: Journal of Arts & Letters @ojalart January 2022
Some people go to priests, others to poetry. ~ Virginia Woolf
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