The Otherside Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

Nestled in nostalgia
Wondering if it is aware
The past sleeps lightly

Castles seem haunted
Wind and creeks
Memory is mystic

The old stairs and banister
Rain cannot clean blood
Perfume cannot hide war

Memorials of old soldiers
Visitations in the storm
Two dimensions gather

Dust the old flowered lamps
Her soul is filled with antiques
Crystal wine glasses, candles

Washed in sweet ghosts
Other worlds peer
I am no longer afraid

Premonitions, the phone rings
Grand Father clocks chime
Dreams touch the other side

She plays the Moon Light Sonata