only the wind (is free) by Frank Prem

The good folk at Australian Speculative Fiction have been provocative enough with their choice of photograph to cause a poem to be born, and kind enough to give it a home, here at their website.

I thank them. Speculative fiction has not been something I had considered at all until recently. Now, I may just be hooked.

Aussie Speculative Fiction

here
in the graveyard
of abandoned dreams

the ghost
in the wind is free
to play

listen …

the squeal
is the rhythm
of a swing grown too rigid
to back and forth
by wistful breath

the rattle
of the branches
speaks
urging

come on
come on

but the ghost remains
opaque
even as it moans
a hollow
to the sky

oh oh
oh-oh

the slide
is a shriek of shivers
of a fingernail
and a drag

from the top
right to the bottom
of the cry

and somewhere
disappearing
is a remnant
of the laughter
of a child

ha-a ha-ha-ha
ha-a

ooo-oo-ooo
oh

the ghost in the wind
is in
the mist
and in the fog

it is not free

it cannot
play

~

About the author: Frank Prem has been a storytelling poet for forty years. When not writing or reading his poetry to an audience, he fills…

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