an impromptu visitation (20170517)

i hear a rustling
like dried leaves
caught in a hot wind
coming from the spare room

i surprise my father
in the act of changing clothes

though silent
he seems angry
mouth clenched closed
like a vise
eyes squinting in judgment

you know you’re dead, right?

next year
he will be one hundred years old
and has been haunting me
from house to house for almost
a quarter of that century

both he and the clothes
are transparent
and when i remind of
of his non-corporeal state
he loses the angry look

though burly in life
he shrugs his grave-thin shoulders
fades away
with the sound of a brittle page
of an old book being turned

15 thoughts on “an impromptu visitation (20170517)”

  1. Wow! This is powerful!

    I submitted my 30/30 poem for today (Day 17) late, so it won’t post until tomorrow, but it seems we have a bit of synchronicity happening.

  2. I love this. Maybe because it makes me think of my own father, burly, books, dead for the last quarter century. But he hasn’t haunted me. It’s a shame because I would have enjoyed having him around.

Comments are closed.