Tag Archives: death

Dad IV

Posted on by

I glimpse

your ghost

in

the sure hands

of a carpenter,

the polished grain

of Oregon pine,

the automatic way I

switch off the light when leaving a room,

the geometric folding of

a newspaper

on the train,

UPPER-CASE EMAILS,

those who talk to

dogs

as if they were human,

to humans

as if they were

joy itself,

the cheerful scatting

of a man in his shed,

brother’s

exasperation when someone goes right

to turn left,

sliced tomato on toast,

and – every morning –

in the shapes

of my

toes

—

BBC – Horizon – The Ghost in Your Genes

Lost and Found

Posted on by

Deep within caliginous soul,

I lost it, broken-hearted,

 

braced against the winter’s chill

of life’s great joys departed

 

And long remained it out of sight,

I could almost it forget,

 

but for dreamscapes late at night,

its engrams in my head

 

But journeys lit that which I lost,

dispersed its shrouding mists

 

If I were to believe in ghosts,

I’d see your hand in this

 

Eternal mysteries

Posted on by

With the ring back on your finger

you sighed and slipped away

but forever it’s a mystery

where you went that day

Did you see them watching you

and whispering in your ear?

When you took your final journey,

did you know that they were there?

Did you sense that we were not?

No-one can ever know,

yet child-like we still ask ourselves –

that day, where did you go?