Ghost, Shopping
Christmas time, once more, drew near;
children, hanging up their stocking;
walking; I saw her apparition appear;
it was my wife’s ghost, shopping.
It was the store; we often would shop;
where I’d worked for five years;
tears ran down my face; refusing to stop;
I turned my back; to dry my tears.
Her ghostly image was not crystal clear;
more, an energy, teasing my mind;
her ghost vanished; when I drew near;
once again; leaving me behind.
At first I thought she was a memory;
her image was so unclear;
instead; she was one most dear to me;
her appearance; totally austere.
I walked the aisles; looking around;
detecting the scent of perfume;
listening for some tell tale sound;
in life; she’d left far too soon.
I thought I could feel her presence;
in an invisible cloud of air;
what I felt was her soul’s essence;
her presence; everywhere.
I couldn’t imagine her ghost, shopping;
what could she possibly hope to buy?
Her mysterious image was eye-popping;
showing me, her soul didn’t die.
Monty 12.24.25. # 3,123