Midnights Voice

(November 3,1950 / Selma, Alabama)

Ghost


I used to walk over my emotions
in the rain, sometimes the snow
Still I just don't know
where the nighthawks go
Flying high-diving low

I used to walk in the night
Alone, unafraid where the red lights
Turn to green through the alleys
Once again past the gates made of tin

I turn thinking of her skin
Turn again and again
Singing softly, mumbling curses
Never coming to an end

I've seen the day come crashing down
Seen it rise up again
Seen Love come in and walk out the door
Seen relationships turn to snow

Seen Reason falter, stumble and fall
Seen it's anger and rage
Seen loves folly over coffee, breakfast and toast
I see it all as if it were a ghost

March 3,2002

Submitted: Thursday, July 19, 2012
Edited: Wednesday, October 03, 2012

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  • Geetha Jayakumar (9/4/2013 6:31:00 AM)

    Some times past haunt us like ghost..Even todays moments may haunt us tomorrow.
    Beautiful poem picturised it very well. Loved reading each lines.. (Report) Reply

  • * Sunprincess * (9/16/2012 12:50:00 PM)

    maybe we are on the same page..I have no doubt we are a ghost...stretch your mind..think back to yesterday...did it really happen..the only thing that is real is this moment...the moment you are now living this second..do you feel the same way? ... :) (Report) Reply

  • Shalyn Stachmus (8/19/2012 12:28:00 AM)

    Like most everything in life, whether good or bad, true or false, real or imaginary, it seems that these things, as you mention in this wonderfully bittersweet poem, are all only passing currents in the larger tide of consciousness. Lessons learned as you learned them, soon change thereafter, as well as the images and memories you had of them, turn over and rush out transformed along with them. Very much like a ghost, I suppose. ;) (Report) Reply

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