Those eyes are holes
sending me dark,
listening to what’s left
when the buzz and traps
tap of the living rain
falling in the gingersweet
night on a
ghost's face, marshlight
flickering in the gloam;
is all I know of home.
55 ghosts in the mist for the G-Man
Image: past mist, by Robb North, on flick'r
Shared under Creative Commons License 2.0 Non-Commercial
This is eerily suited to the weather here tonight; drizzly damp and chill.ReplyDelete
They say spirits walk because they want something. Seems so, after reading this poem, but wanting isn't having. No wonder spirits howl.
chasing you is all i know of home...that line is very lyrical...and follows nice on the witchy descriptions...gritty night eh?ReplyDelete
Chasing you is all I know of home... how lonely, how desperate.ReplyDelete
Fits the photo so well!
That last line is my fav too....Like your FF 55 ~ReplyDelete
Happy day ~
What a haunting poem~we've had some of those gloomy, misty days here too recently.ReplyDelete
This takes ghost hunting to a whole other level, hedgewitch. Eerie, yes, and amazing.ReplyDelete
In another life you lived in the Countyside in a thatched roof house,and you were the most whistful, talented person in the Shire.
Or else you were a Pub Wench at the Green-Eyed Pig!
Loved your 55
Thanks for playing, and have a Kick Ass Week-End
I like to think, both. ;-) Seems I remember drawing a flagon or two while you skipped the light fandango, too.Delete
This is really just beautiful. Every line. (One question from literal me--do you mean to have an extra space before dark, in sending me dark, beginning of second stanza?) I could see it either way--ReplyDelete
Wonderful poem. Amazing that it's a 55. K.
(Ps - not resting too much yet--awful night--but tomorrow is Friday!)
No, typo--thanks for pointing it out. Hope your weekend is calm and soothing. I hate being low on sleep.Thanks for reading, K.Delete
Beautiful and haunting. I could really picture figures following each other in that mist.ReplyDelete
Oh my. This is lush and resplendent in its spare but sensual imagery. So perfectly you. The best you. So very well done! And it feels effortless.ReplyDelete
Thanks, Ruth. It was an easier one, which was nice for a change. ;-)Delete
If it's alright with you, I might not go for a walk tonight...ReplyDelete
The ambience of this is perfect for "Mist" (or vice versa) - not crepuscular the way the spirit wanes but rather the moody ache of the soul's yearning, peering for a Presence that we intuit amid all that Absence, always just out of reach, whether fleeing with The Hunt into the interior or simply vanishing like Eurydice as we try to touch fingers with that paramour whose only purpose seems to be in beckoning our reach .. How feral that final line -- an almost Shakesperean abyss--: and yet Emerson would say the surface of that reaching is all that exists of our true being. Perhaps art is where the heart ain't, or can't quite reach, and home is where the path almost sufficiently appears but won't. Home sweet e'er-wandering bones. Fine 55, Hedge. - BrendanReplyDelete
Thanks, B. there's something about that undefined thing you never quite get that has always been more seductive to me than whatever happens to really end up in my hands. But time has taught me its never exactly what it seems.Never seems to stop me thinking next time may be different, though. ;-)Delete
"Crow wing slapping"...Love that stanza!ReplyDelete
The photo set the mood for the words that follow. And those words that followed set the mood for the topic at hand. A really haunting piece masterfully pieced together.
I really like this! I especially enjoyed gingersweet and marsh liht! Thanks. I have a slightly different 'home'-Delete
Lonely and misty! It gets it nicely towards ghostly. Great verse Joy!ReplyDelete
crow-wing slapping... this is an atmospheric piece, HW... excellenteReplyDelete
gloam...such a word...sets this wellReplyDelete
thanks for your note
Oh, I like this! Beautiful with a touch of Hedge-like creepy.ReplyDelete
Oh this is so strong in mood, perfect for the image above.......I especially love the closing lines. Beautiful writing, kiddo!ReplyDelete
oh how many chase spectres in the fog?ReplyDelete
Love it. That last stanza stays with me.ReplyDelete
Classic HW, I wish you were on wordpress so is get auto update on your poems! I've some back reading to do tomorrow when more time. Dig this 55... Makes todays sun seem too bright~ReplyDelete