Ghost days

Ghost days, writing fog upon a shoreline

Even though it’s just light mist rain drift

Fallen asleep upon, an offshore wind

Beckons lost hours as time strikes ten

Dark dream light wrestles inside ocean songs

While wet sands for miles lay in a weary tide

For now to walk beyond paint and door-frame

From one dim light into another across salt

Seasoned boards, to feel the world on one’s face

As music passes story lines between each strand

Hair swept behind coated in quavers and semiquavers

A misty fresh cool welcome, as on the front porch

She plays her well travelled, weathered guitar.


7 responses to “Ghost days

  1. What I really enjoy about your writing is that it takes me to a place and not only do I feel the physical sensation of being there, I feel the emotion such a place evokes. I don’t read much poetry, and that which I do seems to be more internal/cerebral. I really like the extra dimension in yours.

    • I don’t read many poems either as I tend to drift read between different forms of writing and story telling. Thanks, Julie, most tend to be a genuine reflection to real experiences in time, place, and people.

  2. Such a great poem, dear Sean

    I enjoyed the poetic dialectic game involving ghosts (from the past) and dark dreams (nightmares?).

    The two llast verses stand out!!!…

    Very well written,

    Cheers & best wishes, Aquileana πŸ˜€

    • Cheers, Aquleana, Two stories orbiting one another, connected to place within its sounds to moments both past and present. Thanks πŸ˜€

      • Wonderful explanation. Now I got the essence of the poem according to his author (nor less!)…

        Cheers dear Sean… enjoy your weekend ,

        Aquileana πŸ˜›

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