Letter to a Ghost
Had I not dreamed your death, I would have praised this day.
Your name rests in a wooden box on a desk
in a room far away and twice as old as we were then.
My penance in this phase: to continue.
I gather words close and refrain from admissions.
The clock on the wall seldom chimes,
like one whose vows circumvent convenience, or
a shade allowing the barest sliver of light
through the window. That tock preceding
a long silence. Snow blanketing the mounded earth.
Your scent never lingers past sleep, where you remain.
At last I no longer covet those sheets you’ve shared.
Your name rests in a box. I gather words and refrain.
My Halloween contribution. “Letter to a Ghost” appeared here twice in 2016.
O at the Edges 
Reblogged this on RamJet Poetry.
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Thanks for reblogging!
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My pleasure
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genius!!
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Ha! But thank you.
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Always worth another publication, Bob. Happy Halloween!
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Thanks, Cate. Trick or treat!
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Wonderful.
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Thank you, Robert!
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So so good! As always! I wish I could say something more in my comments but I’m always just so impressed by your writing. When I read this through a second time I read it out loud and it’s just brilliant. Happy Halloween! 🎃
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Thank you, and Happy Halloween to you, too!
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The sentence “That tock preceding/a long silence. ” reminds me of the most surreal experience of my life: feeling my father’s last heart beat.
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Ah, that is a sad but true experience.
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This is so good. The loss is palpable and resonant.
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I’m so pleased it works for you, Anthony. Thank you.
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Perfect timing for Dia de Los Muertos.
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And for once I actually planned it. 😁
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