Poem: Where the Ghosts Go

Where the Ghosts Go

And what do the ghosts do
when the house they haunted
has fallen?

Where do they go?
Do they even exist any longer?
or does it matter?

About this poem.

Spawned by a meme and by this morning’s conversation over coffee with the woman I love. What happens when we grow so much our ghosts and demons no longer have a place to live? Good things, I believe. But where do the ghosts go?

The picture was taken at Asbury Park in the offseason.


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