Like a Ghost
I saw you last night
in a crooked, distorted building
you were trying again for love within some new walls
in an apartment arranged for two
in a city designed by exhaustion
you had her laughing again
as she often used to early on
I followed your movement like a ghost
from room to room
and watched as the two of you entered
into a kitchen where you started to cook dinner
and talk of a new future together
I had not seen you for nearly twenty years
my memory added no age to your face
and your clothing had long since gone out of style
Campbellford, California, Calgary and God knows where
you had been chasing life
forever nipping at the heels of your perceived fulfillment
losing people all along the way
I was getting lost in the thought of it all
then the door slammed
and she was gone too
like always, like all the others
in the shrinking kitchen you stood alone and puzzled
your eyes dropped and searched the floor for answers
I felt myself begin to care and turned away
I slipped into an empty room and gazed out the window
where street lamps poured their light
through a steady snow that fell like television static
and landed on highways twisting like mating snakes
to create a hypnotizing mess with no ends
I began to feel a hollow smile curl onto my lips
then the door slammed
and you were gone too
I turned and said to no one at all
thank you for my life
and thank you for leaving when you did
Copyright © Jeff Davies | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment