I Could Feel His Ghost Just Tagging Along

I Could Feel His Ghost Just Tagging Along Why were there white stones arranged on the grave no symmetry, just haphazard and crying out as if to say, hey here your good friend lays and my heart thought, O' yes he always gave. But that chilly dawn rose up to speak bold about life, love and freezing icy death just that downcast thought caught me by surprise next I felt several thousand years old. Walking away back to my lonely abode I could feel his ghost just tagging along Even heard a few of its swaggering words Tale tales just like old Jim once proudly told. That night I fell asleep talking to him. He was there and laughing, my friend old Jim. Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet Feb. 5th 1979 \ Note= Old Jim was an old friend of mine back then. Sure, he drank whiskey every day and made to the age of 87! I did so miss him and our games of dominoes. We had our joyful talk that night and the ghost vanished.