GHOSTS ON ALL SOULS DAY
Ghosts come to haunt me
not peopled non-bodies
but constructs of my past
yet to be put to rest
still with enough charge
to pull and tease at my edges
hoping to snag a centre hold.
Reticence drifts in
draping itself around my courage
cloaking any words of merit,
any speak-easy that might have built a bridge.
Unsureness is likewise drawn along
ready to smother tentative movement
about to poke a finger out towards connection.
Awkward I stand
wanting, not wanting to hide amongst
the coverings these ghosts provide
until I again become brave
and say
I am.
Kaaren Whitney ©2nd November 2001
