with its creaking door

it's not the hooting owl
across a cemetery

not dark of night

not goblins, ghouls, or ghosts

no specter haunts me.

but

that song
those places
times left to slip away
hurts that never heal
memories to forget
as if I could

that
haunts
me

Diving
in the shallow end
of life
isn't really the safe option

Blind men leading,
and the mute follow.
The future
stands wide open,
     if you have the right key.

...that life is a blank canvas
after I've
pawned my paint and
brushes
for a bitter cup of coffee
and a bus pass.

I would banish all my ghosts
      banish all pain
            all shame
I would banish the night
      but then
             I might forget my name

Oh,

to

         float free
                               among
    the
               clouds


But the sky
                                    is clear and blue




****
Thwarted again.

Rortle beans.
You've never had them.
But if you had,
You would know
They make you chortle.
Like a tortle on its back
Would never do
To you.
Poor tortle. (flip 'em over will ya)