The Ghost and Her Burden

ghostswing
ghostfoglostSomewhere between who she had once been
And who she ought be
Rested who she was.
Flickering in and out of existence
Like the rolling of static over dead airwaves.
A sense of falling and rising and falling again.

A wave tossed about the ocean.
A cloud lead by wind.
A blink of an eye in time and space.
Rattled to her bones.
She could not comprehend solid ground.
The world seem to constantly shift beneath her feet;
Changing and obscuring itself
In the swirling white of a tule fog.

Drifting between where she had once been
And where she ought be
Was her present.
Her place in uncertainty.
The burden born upon her shoulders.
Carried alone.

 

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About St Basil Z Fish

Curator of the strange and incredibly awkward. A rambling writer with the misguided notion he has something to say. His only redeeming qualities are his wife and children.
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