John F. McCullagh
The Ghost Of Tower Two - Poem by John F. McCullagh
The piled debris had been removed
The smell of death was gone
The first time she appeared to me
one cool September morn
Translucent and ethereal, to my disbelieving eye
Like many a wingless angel who’d tried and failed to fly
Whatever was she doing here, why now and not before
peering in my window on the forty second floor.
I felt a chill – a sense of dread I’d never felt before
My superstitious peasant brain was coming to the fore.
And yet I sensed no threat of doom, no anger out of you
floating there before me, the ghost of tower two.
There was sadness in your eyes for all you had foregone
Deprived of youth and love and life-all vanished now and gone
As morning light began to glow you faded from my view
But I will not forget you soon, the ghost of tower two.
Perhaps she’s seeking closure, the discovery of a bone
Or has unfinished business that keeps her here alone
Or maybe we’ve forgotten them- what we promised not to do
And deserve now to be haunted by the ghost of tower two.
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