The Ghosts Within

Welcome to Wisdom’s Quill.  Please enjoy this original poem by yours truly.  Feel free to leave comments for discussion in the comments section.  I would love to hear from you.

 

The Ghosts Within

By: Brian Evans

 

Memories,

like ghosts of childhood past,

manifest in my mercurial muse.

Then, like vapors,

vanish into the air of my reality.

Some ghosts are friendly.

 

Like the ones that whisk me away

to eternal Summers and Dog Days

filled with June Bugs

and ice cream, homemade.

Then, away to late-night freeze tag

with family ties and fireflies.

 

Life was then a virgin,

not yet kissed

by the lips of demons in disguise.

Everything is pretty to innocent eyes.

Love was like snow,

freshly fallen and untouched

by the feet of curiosity.

Some ghosts are friendly.

 

Then, there are those

that carry a maddening haunt.

Like the ones that pull me

into cellars sworn to secrecy,

then leave me

to develop in the darkroom of photographic memories.

Some ghosts are enemies.

 

As vapors evanesce, leaving

their condensation on the windows of my reality,

I assent to this one brief soliloquy:

We are now, because of who we have been,

and we will be, because of the ghosts within.

SELAH

Copyright Symbol blackcopyright 2014

 

Published in Words & Images In Flight: Poetry and Visual Arts (Poets and Places).  March 2014

 

As always, thank you for visiting Wisdom’s Quill.  See you soon.

BE

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