I’m not afraid of ghosts.
I fear when ghosts have gone
And left me with a host
Of the Living living wrong.

Ghosts are airy secrets.
People have the gall
To leak like creaky crickets,
Shrieking, “Yes! I know it all!”

They scare away the ghosts
Who hold a piercing peaceful piece
That could save us all at most
Or be interesting at least.

Ghosts are us in other form,
Such a shame to be afraid
Of a wondrous thunderstorm
When lightning is your trade.

Life is empty without ghosts,
I find it dearly wanting,
Indeed it is my innermost
Desire for a haunting.