The spiralling of winter ghosts (a poem)

Written during a poetry reading while listening to David Sylvian & Holger Czukay.

Winter ghosts are waiting in the wings
wishing to leapfrog their autumn counterparts

Rain is hesitant
leaving a few drops a night or two ago
but silent ever since

Echoes echo quiet as well
the canyon before us
has no size

The haze puts up quite the front

—

The history before me
lives in boxes, envelopes, and folders

I see something flit past the corner of my eye

I think it’s stolen the words
that do not come when called

I might call it blank verse
but I’m trying hard not to be facetious

In an echoless chamber
where it does not rain
I wait for winter ghosts to spiral out of control
leaving autumn far behind

(17 September 2020)

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Ordinary Average Thoughts