ghost train

ghost train. revisited

Oh ghost train
what terrors do you hold
as you launch across the landscape
burning in the cold

Oh scarecrow
what terrors have you seen
hung up in a corn field
where the murders been

Oh October
harvest and the moon
colors of the
dying

now I light a candle
remembering the lost

so when they come
to call

in the dark hours
in the frost

see
them by
their shadows
playing

in the hall

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2 responses to “ghost train

  1. Grace’s Poem

    My Father

    My father hides from us. I’ve looked for him
    All my life. Sometimes I close my eyes and
    Try to find his thoughts: they’re out there
    Somewhere, on the other side of time.

    There seems to be no rhyme or season in
    His absence. It makes no sense to me.
    I look for him in spring, when daffodils
    Might have taken the winds of March
    Out of his sails and slowed him down.

    In summer, I hope to see him striding
    Through the ripening corn, his face alight
    With joy at finding us still looking.
    In autumn, when the leaves drop from the oak
    I glance up at its forlorn branches in
    Case there’s a chance I will find him hiding,
    Hoping to surprise and entrance us both.

    But then winter comes, and I find myself
    Wondering through my window at the frost
    Whether somewhere in deep space he got lost
    On his way back to mum and me.
    I know he loves us. We may see him soon.
    He’ll fly through a magic window
    On the other side of the moon.

    Grace Forrester

    (from Myrddin’s Heir, Book 3: “The Quality of Mercy”)

    Liked by 1 person

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