I still taste you 
in every sip of liquor
O, how quickly
our past begins to replay
projected on the evening lawn
as the oil lamp burns 
ghostly, beside me

You said so little
like some men will
That stillness was a balm
to my life’s tumult
Your stoic way
and silent eyes
a recurring character
in my diary’s scribbled lines

I don’t do much
but work and walk
and play the records
y...

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Who wants to try to please
a ghost?
A ghost, long departed,
yet still lingering.
Haunting.
You reach out for affection,
But in your hands, just air.
You say "what do you think
of me now?"
But the ghost smiles.
"Why do you still care?"

by Marla Deaton 2019

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