Ghosts

I know for sure that they exist I have seen them with my own eyes at all hours of the day and night since I was a small child spirits, specters, phantoms, ghosts whatever one wishes to call them Striding down the sidewalk ducking through doorways descending the stairs casting shadows on the walls wandering the halls No moldy shrouds or clanking chains or mournful wails appearing as solid and vital as if blood still pulsed through arteries and veins before they suddenly vanish silently from sight like a bubble bursting as they pass back through the veil The dead do not frighten me What sends a shiver down my spine Causes my body to shake in fear my heart to quiver after all these long years though there are those who insist that it exists I have never seen love