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Ghosts.

Grew
That soft scented flower.
Between the rocks of my life.
Choking
In that desert of no hope.
Dying of thirst.
A balloon
Must float away or burst.

Blue
The lips of death.
Between a beating heart
And a lovers last breath.
Cascading
From the clouds
Masquerading
In the crowds.
That sunstruck smile.
From the wand of a wizard
Skating
On moonbeams
Of a lake
That doesn't exist.
Like the first time we kissed.

Flew
Like a bird of silver wing.
In silent sky.
Froze in its flight.
To pose
Memory in white.
As brushstrokes of black
Paint
The night.

Then fire
From the dragons mouth.
And smoke.
Forcing migrant dreams
To fly south.
And evoke
A far off spirit
That rang
Of innocence.
With sweet eyes,
Like a bell
Of Sunday sacrament.
Now
Lost in a haze
Of unsaid goodbyes.
Blown out to sea
On the hiss of a wind.
That love never pinned
On its sleeve.
Left alone.
Our bright star,
And forgotten cantata
Will kiss those ghosts
We all grieve.

poem by Kevin East
Added by Poetry Lover
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