December Ghost

I have been walking

Through this holiday season

As if from the inside

Of an ice tunnel

I see the cheerful lights

I hear the joyous voices

I smell the pine

But everything is muffled, remote

I am experiencing these sensations

As if from a distance

As I walk down Locust Walk

On my way to my

Sterile subterranean office

I know that I will yet again

Spend too many hours today

Trying to wrestle

My focus and attention span

Back onto my work

Deadlines are looming

But my thoughts too easily

Wander away into the ether

The other commuters

Look as though they

Are on another plain

Of existence

Our colors, our vibrancy

Do not match

There is no look of recognition

No acknowledgement

As we pass each other

They are like ghosts

Drifting by on the cobblestones

It occurs to me

That perhaps it is I

Who has become

The ghost

Washed out

Stretched thin

Rendered transparent

And insubstantial

Liable to disintegrate

Become completely


If a strong enough wind blows


      1. I think that is a wonderful thing. I think also, expressing one’s truth helps other people to become more comfortable in expressing theirs. But I am sorry too that you are feeling melancholy.


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