How do I begin to tell you?

He says
He has a ghost.

An elderly gentlemen
They see in the hall
After dark.

This leads to other stories
Of ghosts
Tied (inevitably) to their institutions

Here and there…
One stands out in particular
Red eyes/trench coat
A familiar demon.

How do I tell you he is
Real
Real as the sorrow of sins
Against children?

Real as the moon over snow
A man could die out there just
From a lack of adequate
Cover

No. I do not like that guy
Never did see his face
But know exactly who you mean

By all the nightmare you
Left behind

Advertisements

Leave This House

Imagine it is old or beautiful
Perfectly groomed
Or hurricane messy

But you must leave it
Cleaned
Shaken of its dust

All the memories of this place
Come back to you as children
Playing hide and seek in this square place they only knew as home

They stop now
Look at you bewildered
Why are we leaving?

Your answer is complicated by both
Tears and regret
You know
All men must one day
Leave this house
For another

Either infinitely
Better or worse than the first