GHOST TOWN.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A WOMAN GOES TO LAY GHOST AT A SEASIDE TOWN.

Submitted: April 11, 2010

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Submitted: April 11, 2010

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You have come to
This place to lay
Ghosts. Your father
Said that was how

To move on from
A broken love.
The walk along
The beach alone

Brings it all home.
His footprints in
The sand are there
But ghostly; his

Hand in your hand
Is merely a
Trick of mind you
Find when you look

To see nothing
There. The sea ebbs
And flows just as
Indifferently;

The sky and clouds
Witness nothing
New, the gulls fly
Over as once

They did as he
Threw back his head
And called out an
Imitation

Cry. The hotel
Room is altered
Now; hollowness
Echoes around

The white walls from
Yesteryear’s bright
Conversations
And words of love

And sounds of hot
Copulation
From the empty
Bed. But maybe

Nothing was right
From the start; he
Was what he was
Even then, but

You never saw
It until the
Last letter came,
Not until that

Final row. The
Place brings no joy
Or pleasure; the
Ghosts have gone now.


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