wish you were
here....
Your ghost sits in that kitchen chair,
smoking and talking
watching me cook, clean.
Today in the shop
I had to back away
from the men's clothes
to avoid your ghost
in every aisle.
And yesterday,
on a morning walk to the park
your ghost flitted through the shadows
of that copse of young trees
taking photos of me
in the snow.
I want to shout
come back, come back, come back.
I wish I could do the same.
..................................................................................................
This is a poem I wrote last year and apart from having been published in my pamphlet Heartbroke it is now going to be published(together with The Hospice) in a new anthology about grief and loss being edited by RV Bailey, UA Fanthorpe's widow. Oh and by the way, I've had lots of poems published in anthologies over the last 20 years!
When I sleep, your ghost
sleeps beside me.Your ghost sits in that kitchen chair,
smoking and talking
watching me cook, clean.
Today in the shop
I had to back away
from the men's clothes
to avoid your ghost
in every aisle.
And yesterday,
on a morning walk to the park
your ghost flitted through the shadows
of that copse of young trees
taking photos of me
in the snow.
I want to shout
come back, come back, come back.
but don’t …
Your ghost scoops up the cat
with big brown hands
and strokes her gently.
In your absence
she has retreated
further into sleepI wish I could do the same.
..................................................................................................
This is a poem I wrote last year and apart from having been published in my pamphlet Heartbroke it is now going to be published(together with The Hospice) in a new anthology about grief and loss being edited by RV Bailey, UA Fanthorpe's widow. Oh and by the way, I've had lots of poems published in anthologies over the last 20 years!