What happens to

Ghosts that lose

Their moans groans

Their scariness do

They become wind

Do they turn

Into a breeze

Or do they


Making no sound

I wonder then

What you might

Be for one

Moment you were

Here and the

Next gone without

So much as

A whispered whimper

Leave me ghost

You shall not

Have me my

Soul belongs to

The living those

Who have hearts

That beat loudly

And bleed on

Sleeves when hurt

Be gone ghost

For good now


You don’t remember

Not long ago

On most radios

You heard static

And less music

There is joy

In ill-tuned things

It requires hope

That some where

You’ll hear clarity

Today’s static

Is very different

It is opinion

Impossible to escape

Prevalent and embroiling

Indeed life is

Such a thing

Swimming in noise

Mostly unrelenting noise

Switch it off

To find your

Own sweet silence


Gathering on some

Far off horizon

In the evening

After humid days

Rain laden clouds

Plump with tears

Billow and spawn

Bringing angry downpours

Of unfettered emotion

Standing here alone

Wondering if this

Is a bellwether

Of something else

Turning myself skyward

Accepting my doom

Soaked and dismayed

Like prairie flowers

Shaking off all

Torrents and deluge

To bloom again

A bit weathered

Like barn wood

Sturdy and strong