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Ghosts ©

Nat Hall
Sandwick, Shetland

Alive or dead,
I live with ghosts.
Distant figures,
Like seeds
Of the dandelion
Carried by wind
Roam through
My mind.

Love-hate my ghosts.
From the meadow
I ran away;
Encapsulated in
The dew,
Like honey bees
Jailed in rain drops,
memory lives -
can't run away
From their shadows.

Can't touch
My ghosts.
On or below
Our savage earth,
Like sunflowers
Or parasites,
I know their eyes.
Torn asunder
I look away,
The hand can't
Reach out
For the rags.

I loathe the night,
The lonely days -
The deep silence
Left in
My mind.

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