Ghosts of the Album
Like spider silk woven into human form.
gliding in the air as it moves and beckons.
grasping the metal of an old light pole.
Head turning and seeming to look at me.
I ask, if you ever came back to us again,
how annoyed would you be at the traffic?
Would you enjoy our precious cellphones,
or perhaps you'd find them an abomination?
Smiles will shine like noon if you returned;
excitement would make the heart flutter;
but you're a crispy voice of soft whispers
indifferent to feeling, or even breathing.
Whether lost kindred fallen in a great war
ghost of the battlement, forever on guard
kept alive by the memories and pictures
in the album on my Grammy's bookshelf.
3/13/2021
I Remember Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Malabika Ray Choudhury
Copyright © Ken Allan Dronsfield | Year Posted 2021
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