Braving The Chasms
I was never born
Superstitious
Or with a fervent
Inclination to
The supernatural.
There is a brazen
Comfort in a funeral
And this oddity
Rouses the soul
In me -
A frivolous entity.
A comrade said that
A ghost – an icy vesper
Passed by.
A white specter
Sent to abeyance.
”That was a ghost.”
He quipped.
I let out an insidious
Smirk and said,
”Ghosts don’t scare
Me.”
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
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