I can hear them They flicker like the shapes thrown by a candle on the wall Sometimes quiet Other times a deafening roar Clattering and shouting.
They are settling for the night Just the creak of boards and beds and sighs They will never know that I can see as well as hear Watching their lives Recording time
My own time passed As will theirs I endure
Once this was my house The funeral bell tolled for me But I stayed
Forgotten Like the dusty attic boxes That nobody remembers
Watching Listening Hearing
*Ramping up for Halloween and wondering what it would be like to be a ghost among the living.