Ghosts of moments from our past
linger just beyond our reach;
those we once held close dearly,
now we silently beseech.
Silvery memories of first love
now but sighs upon the wind--
near a secret place where, long ago,
broken hearts would begin.
Ghosts of a love once captured
but escaped in the quiet.
Childrens' whispers, tiny giggles
fade to echoes in the night.
Ghosts hold the secret stories
of lives now almost spent.
Ghosts of memories that remain
where, once, our dreams were sent.
Originally submitted October, 2021
Reworked and resubmitted January 23, 2022
for "A Brian Strand (1058)" Poetry Contest ~ First Place!
Title changed after judging
Copyright © Ann Peck | Year Posted 2022
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