Paranormal Experiences


My father's cloud now scuds across the sky
A sparkle in his eye
His mouth
Moving North to South

Whispers my name along the wind through years
My ears 
Can almost hear the sound
It rumbles toward the ground

From West to East
My heart enjoys the feast


Awakened in the night I look
To see whose hand has touched my hair
And in the darkness standing there
I think I see my father where
I know in truth an empty chair
Confronts the dying embers of my fire

I rise to give the fire a stoke
Throw another log in place
Strain to see whose ghost has graced
My solitude and in my haste
I fail to see what hand has traced
My name upon the frosted mirror

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Brick and thatch hut

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