i feel it
standing behind me
the spectre of that old man
shaped like my father
on the outside
on the inside
with a shadow
neither long nor dark
no chills race up my spine
but there is that whisper
you too
you too
not ghosts (20161201)
6 thoughts on “not ghosts (20161201)”
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Words and Feathers 
the inversion of lines at the end of the first stanza works well for me. and the repetition of “you too” is haunting. so often we try to avoid being like our fathers but wake up one day, surprised.
Thank you very much. I think we never really get away from our parents, both good and bad.
Chills, baby. What a frightening thought that although we may perceive ourselves as unique individuals, we may very well be mostly products of our parents and not much more! That would suck; especially because my mother voted for Trump. Blah!!
You have my deepest sympathies… or should I say, condolences, since we’re talking about spirits.
Oh! It’s entitled: Not Ghosts, though? I need to re-read your poem.
No, you’re right. I was just playing with the idea of other types of hauntings.