Am I a ghost?
I seem to move through places,
Spaces,
I pass through
Unseen,
But not unfelt.
A messy ghost perhaps,
As I do leave a trace,
I move things,
Change positions,
Lift things
Higher.
A whispering ghost,
Weaving words
Into the air,
Into minds.
And what might my words do there,
Amidst the grey matter,
What might I make?
What might I wake?
What might I shake?
Phantom Earthquake
Did you like my writing? Sign up to get more!
Every day in 2023, I'll send an inspiring poem, engaging flash fiction or a captivating short story directly to your inbox. Join hundreds of readers, for free!
