CCW Finalist, Poetry

Only Ghosts are Here by Margaret J. Hoehn

Footsteps fading away. A flock of sparrows shading into melancholy, into dusk: echo behind the sha- dows. A candle blowing out: the ghost of warmth. Someone forgets his key on the bus, and a door locks itself behind him. The light from the keyhole is all that is left of the past. He could spend a life-time trying to find his way back. Universe that lies between the one who is left and the one who is leaving. Mist hovering over the river at night like the wraith of water. The note on the table: echo of what the words don’t say.

Margaret J. Hoehn