when I was eight
I saw it
sat on it's swings
mother in the shops
only when
we tried to find it again
it wasn't there
or maybe
it just got lost
amidst
the concrete labyrinth
of the city

------

walking back
through there
waiting to vanish
along with it
like chalk dust
cappuccino in my hand
years later
I saw the ghost
of myself
so clearly
as if I could
reach out & touch her

------

better we had stayed ghosts
than ever entered the present