A gleaming glassy ocean
Under a sky of grey;
A tide that dreams of motion,
Or moves, as the dead may;
A bird that dips and wavers
Over lone waters round,
Then with a cry that quavers
Is gone—a spectral sound.
The brown sad sea-weed drifting
......
mmmmmmm
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I am a ghost, a spirit of the ages,
A phantom figure that never fades,
A memory of the ones who came before,
A whisper of the past that lingers more.
I haunt the halls of ancient ruins,
And wander through abandoned tombs,
I'm the echo of a voice long gone,
The distant notes of a forgotten song.
......
At first you didn't know me.
I was a shape moving rapidly, nervous
at the edge of your vision. A flat, high voice,
dark slash of hair across my cheekbone.
I made myself present, though never distinct.
Things I said that he repeated, a tone
you could hear, but never trace, in his voice.
......
Through shattered glass and sheeted furniture, chicken
wire and piled dishes, sheared-off doors stacked five to a
wall, you're walking like cripples. Toward a dirty window,
obstructed by stacks of chairs.
And once you move them, one by one, palm circles through
the grime and cup your hands round your faces, finally able
to see through—
Charged night. Sheet-flashes of green, threaded with sparks,
......
These are poems about shadows, poems about darkness, poems about shades in the form of ghosts and spirits...
Shadows
by Michael R. Burch
Alone again as evening falls,
I join gaunt shadows and we crawl
up and down my room's dark walls.
......
Old names break into pieces
Somewhere along the timeline
Like handmade pottery
Thrown at the ground
Or at the walls, or at the window
Or onto the ceiling, caught in the skylight
Thrown up
......
As I lay here at night, in the soft pale moonlight
I hear from outside the wall,
The gusts, rapid and swift
The sound of your phantom call.
I think, wondering, waiting-
Is it my mind mistaking
The cold whipping wind
Which upon ride your whispers to me
......
I am a ghost, a spirit of the ages,
A phantom figure that never fades,
A memory of the ones who came before,
A whisper of the past that lingers more.
I haunt the halls of ancient ruins,
And wander through abandoned tombs,
I'm the echo of a voice long gone,
The distant notes of a forgotten song.
......
I am a ghost, a whispering shade,
A fleeting memory that's never quite laid,
A wisp of smoke that dances in the night,
A gentle breeze that carries out of sight.
I haunt the halls of ancient castles,
My presence felt in eerie cackles,
I wander through the forest's mist,
A haunting presence you can't resist.
......