with ghosts

I went to sleep
with ghosts last night

some dead
some still living

conundra
whispered softly

the why
and what
of long ago
anew as though
right now
again

again

in my mind
they whirl around
spinning dervish-like
memories spreading
wise as skirts
mid-spin

fling them

one

another

all the rest

away
that I might be
in peace

some little peace
until
my spectres gather strength
once more


© Frank Prem, 2016

Poem #26: a casual meeting with the banjo frog

2 thoughts on “with ghosts

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