February 5, 2015 12:58am

I walked out interrupting a conversation:
a circle of empty chairs on my back porch.
I have no clue as to what they spoke of,
but they seemed slightly offended by my presence.
the wind rustles leaves to sound like animals;
the creaks and whispers hinting at death.
it all has me so grateful to breathe for the experience–
walking in on ghostly talk, yet never finding fear from it.

-*newportsmooths h.g.