07:00
there was knocking on my door
and a quiet voice
asking for me to let in

when I finally got
to open the door
there was no trace of anyone
not my sister
who never knocked so softly
always two quick knocks
not my father
who bangs on the door
as if I've stolen something from him and now he wants it back
no, no one was at the door
nor the corridor
nor the winding stairs that resembled the shriveled oak tree
we admired so. (she turned a hundred last year)

no, my only visitor
was the sunlight
creeping her way in softly, silently
through the square glass windows

I admit I am not a morning person
(wrong. I am not a waking up at 07:00 person)
if my ghosts are trying to wake me up,
its 07:00,                                   too early.