There was a ghost writing

at your desk,using your old notebooks..

Seemed to be over seeing the production

of your biography and times.

I picked up your pyjamas and smelled

the bit under your arms

it was a potent reminder

of our first encounter.

I tiptoed away leaving the  ghost alone.

Wasn’t that what you always wanted?


About Kate4grace

I love writing and conversation,wild flowers,music and air
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