Another Ghost

Some days there are words lingering at the cusp of your lips, those cadaverous things, dying to be evocated, to be summoned into life.

You speak and cheat death for a second, those words springing to life.

And if you can’t, let others speak for you.

Especially if it’s something wonderful.

I share with you this:

Night slips
into black silk,
and breathing stills.
Lilac floats
on swollen air.

I wait
in full blossom,
my feet warm
in the spreading moss.

A cricket calls, lonely,
from another valley,
in another hollow.
Another shadow,

another pause.

by Catnapping