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Ghost

 

A shifting in the air;
A sense of something
Someone
Unseen
Significant

But there is no time to pause
To look
To probe
the nature of that significance.

It is all too difficult.

And besides
There is no time.

Perhaps someone really was there.
Perhaps not.

But

I know I am here.
I feel my heart beat.
I feel my pain
My sadness.
My lack of a connection.

The desperate pressure
Of thought, passion, unsung songs,
Unspent energy, turning to dust in my hands as the clock ticks.

But the air shifts in the wind of your passing
And I cannot reach through it
To touch you.

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