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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