09-24-2021, 06:06 AM
As a child…
I was afraid of ghosts
in fig trees, yew trees,
willows like fountains of tears
in the gathering darkness. Fear
of bones picked clean. Water
churned green. Sorrow that hung
from a rope in the branches
against the sky,
wide eyed children
asking why -
but now
knowing it was all a lie
I’m afraid there are no ghosts
in the gathering darkness.
I was afraid of ghosts
in fig trees, yew trees,
willows like fountains of tears
in the gathering darkness. Fear
of bones picked clean. Water
churned green. Sorrow that hung
from a rope in the branches
against the sky,
wide eyed children
asking why -
but now
knowing it was all a lie
I’m afraid there are no ghosts
in the gathering darkness.