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A History of Ghosts
For generations raps, taps and table turnings were
the signs of a spirit calling; the ghoul of you trying to
deliver a message - to finish unfinished business and
sleep an everlasting slumber in the clouds above.
The presence of a loved one floated in white light,
apparitions waving at the end of a tunnel bright. Icy mists
hovered around graveyards, phantoms clawing and cawing at
sanctified earth. Spectres clinked chains with warnings dire.
Clocks stopped. Widows wore black. Families, trapped in the
amber of grief, took portraits with their beloved deceased.
A memento of the living.
Now, you just ghost me on Tinder.
Copyright ©
Thomas Harrison
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