A subtle poltergeist

Photo by Milad B. Fakurian from Unsplash

In the evening
sparse
with sounds,
sounds
the wind.

You pretend
you
do not hear
the ghosts, no
because
when you were
small,
the adults
would tell you
it was air,
moving air.

In many
waving
patterns…

Like light,
it waves;
like dark
it waves.
Like even
silence,
it waves →
like water…

Inside
the quiet
night,
the wind
folds
and
pleats.

You listen to what the air has to say.

You listen,
because
like any rebel,
you
believe in the
haunting reality,
that it is here
somewhere.

Ethereal
ephemeral,
beautifully
evasive,

A familiar poltergeist,

Subtle now,

But not forever…

© Niliema Karkhanis

From a collection of poetry past (edited). Circa 2016. A new sequel to follow in the coming days.

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