fantome

rose scent night takes the house
i sit in the front room
the world was made for the shroud
i am alone
but being alone know not peace
nor loneliness if such you call
for tonight is a night of ghosts
familiar phantoms fill the hall
peter hayes with an outsize pig
best of breed at the county fair
middle of summer 1896
great great grandfather
john healy pale and gaunt
staring down a charging horse
bringing the wayward animal to a halt
fifty years before my birth
granny berney of the floury hands
mixing up chicken slops
here's tuppence for being good
now run down to the shops
all night i've sat with the ghosts
while time and tide flowed soft
knowing not where i'll go
whence i came is good enough