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GHOSTS


In the stillness they come
from the recesses of my mind
I see them out of the corner of my eye
... bringing gifts

A sharp whinny in the night
a whisper that noone else hears

The warm feel of hide of a friend of long ago
or was it the wind?

Shadows moving where nothing is

in paddocks long deserted
I feel ghosts of the past
Barns still and empty come alive

all too brief

and the emptyness that follows.....

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I realize it cannot be any more
they are but echoes of another time

Left unchecked, they multiply and
demand attention
so I keep the places they may dwell filled
and push them out with the here and now

yet .....
sometimes when the night is still

they come
one by one or In multitude

and sometimes ....
I call them

and always recieve their gifts eagerly
and for a time relive the past
but....
all too soon they leave and
the price of these gifts.... emptyness
a fair price, gladly paid

and I think, one day when the end is near and my life is measured in breaths
I will call them and have them carry me away
... and become as them, a ghost