Ghosts

Ghosts of moments from our past linger just beyond reach. Those we once held dearly, now we silently beseech. Silvery memories of that first love-- now but sighs on 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, giggles faded to echoes in the night. Ghosts hold the stories of lives almost spent-- ghosts of memories that remain where, once, our dreams were sent. Originally submitted October, 2021 Reworked and submitted January 23,2022 for A Brian Strand (1058) Poetry Contest