Conversational Ghosts

You would be surprised what lies behind
the door of this old house,
of the ghosts that live here
in silent splendor,
their beauty a thing of light and music,
bereft of dirges or hate,
conversational, cheerful, faces flush
with love and laughter and wine,
no more dead than you and I,
simply more transparent.

About this poem

“Your house isn’t as spooky on the inside as it is on the outside” said the little princess trick or treater who walked up to my porch in the foggy dark.

“That’s usually how it works.” I said, giving her an extra dose of candy.

Then I came in and wrote this poem.

The picture was taken just down the road from me in West Pawlet, VT.

Tom