I Call Them Spirits

I call them spirits They contact me in a variety of ways I can smell one of them; he smells like Old Spice My father I can see one of them Also my father I also glimpse a native American spirit guide named Little Wolf I do not speak to them, but I am aware My mother manipulates electricity and the phones. She can call us from her landline number Four years after it was disconnected When I smell smoke I say “Okay, Dwight, I know you are here.” The smoke smell instantly disappears. He is my father-in-law When all of the cabinets slam in the kitchen I know it is Helen. She is my husband’s mother, showing him that she is displeased At the tone of voice he has used with me. I love it when this happens.