Revenant Gloam
 Published in The Blue Nib Literary Magazine 
poetry

She often
​attended my manic
ruminations.

Invisible agent
unyielding meddler
the Past

howls
its declarations
that it will expose me

obdurate specter
wretched wraith
manifesting hallways to pace

walls to scrape
air in which to shriek
precious objects to shatter

visions to pollute
with vague and false calls
palpable deception

stomping and rioting
lies in tongues
which terrorize this moment

in odious taunts
with incorporeal haunts
murking the reasons

for these visitations
these possessed spooks
these eidolons of pain

claiming me
during the
revenant gloam.

The silence sat
still, sullen
 and wrung out.

“The ghosts don’t like you,”
she mumbled
finally.

I reached for her
but
she had gone.

She’ll be back.

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