A Ghost Is Born

I am

a gasp of wind which wants to beg admittance,

having  no ambition but to be inside,

where she waits,

her who can see

what is not there and stares

through imprisoned windows

unwilling to acknowledge me.

I am

a thing worse than unborn,

outside in the unknowing.

‘I will not let you inside

so your beginning will end

peace in my heart.

You who will take existence

as a cloak to linger in orbit

around life you can’t understand.’

I am

wind spoil made to linger forever,

longing for attachment

like a shadow set free,

but no sun cast me

as a reflection from another.

‘You can enter

where I have gone

son of the song of an echo

no soul will ever listen to.

Barren as autumn,

you who were never a man,

but born to thrive on

this dust of my departure,

forever.’