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The Otherside
Nestled in nostalgia
Wondering if it is aware
The past sleeps lightly
Castles seem haunted
Wind and creeks
Memory is mystic
The old stairs and banister
Rain cannot clean blood
Perfume cannot hide war
Memorials of old soldiers
Visitations in the storm
Two dimensions gather
Dust the old flowered lamps
Her soul is filled with antiques
Crystal wine glasses, candles
Washed in sweet ghosts
Other worlds peer
I am no longer afraid
Premonitions, the phone rings
Grand Father clocks chime
Dreams touch the other side
She plays the Moon Light Sonata
poem
by
Joseph Narusiewicz
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