summer sky a brittle blue
dunes of sand shifted
and drifted
along the shore of my soul
nettles twitching like hot neurons
sand piper thoughts darting in and away
from the tide
stopping long enough to pick at
something wiggling and sublime
they do not scatter to flight
in fear of shattering the fragile sky
waves emoting
bits and scraps tubular bubbling
gelatinous broken shapes
the water draws away other things
before they have been inventoried
shells are strewn about
-memories of something once living
occupied by imaginary ghosts
Shorelines change
sometimes subtle others abrupt
growing and shrinking with circumstance
Unfathomable to the occasional visitor
I have been here too many times
this place of sadness
and scorched earth
The stone framework and foundation
is embedded with eerie melancholy
In the stillness of these woods
I feel your ghost is near
still weeping over what was done
Ignorance burned brightly that night
so long ago
townsfolk standing by to watch your house in flames
whispering that you were a commie
You never spent a night in this place
not while alive
But here in the twilight of a day
I sense your time is spent here
among the charcoal and scorched stone
of a ghost house
The gods do not see me
I am too small
for their eyes
even when I am not
trying to hide