Places 2

Published in Twisted Ink Webzine ~ Spring 2010

In Washington
The pastures
Sit empty
Posts rotting
Wire sags more
Every winter
The house
Rests silent
Haunted
By footsteps that
Don’t occur anymore

The people are strangers to me
Like they always were
Maybe the house
Isn’t haunted

Rather
I am
Haunted
Maybe that’s why
My invisible friend
As a child
Was once
A real man
Who in a drug induced euphoria
Committed suicide
In my room
Then was devoured
By his cats
Before he rotted

I hear ghosts
Whisper
Sing their lost songs
In a language
I can’t understand
But
I understand
The tears
In the words
And I know
I have never
Loved that deep
And hard.

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