a sudden thunderstorm, clap of thunder, flash of lightening, sheets of rain... rumble & crash of thunder, lightening flashing like a camera bulb, wet shreesh of cars driving over rain-sheeted road, puddle-damp cool air rush through the crack in the window, coffee getting cold & thick, 2 cigarettes left - all is dark - electric - scurrying about unplugging the computers - kitties huddled around the window - gazing out into the storm & back at me with big wondering eyes...
these things glow in the dark: cat's eyes, stars, burning candles, the moon, fireflies, streetlamps, a lit cigarette, a bonfire, a lighthouse, ghosts...
ghosts are memories. memories are ghosts. smoke is the ghost & memory of a cigarette. ghosts are smoke. close your eyes, purse your lips & blow them away. ghosts can't talk but they can make a scratching whistle sound. ghosts are a breath. in the winter you can see them leaping from people's mouths.
if you squint your eyes & let your vision blur - you can see the ghosts. things you thought dead come back to life again. you can see them dancing, breathing.
1999
by Lake e. Lou
Comments
1 comments by Robin Reminds me of winter in Minnesota....so much time to spend with ghosts then.... lovely... thank you