My ritual walk begins 

Down the path we used to travel

Blustery winds blow the tricolored leaves

I march on past the old fence gate

Creaking it swings to and fro

Loud crunching of leaves 

Begins to cancel out my thoughts

Reaching the end of the road

Street lights flicker and hum

Turning to the right, from memory

Pavement old from wear  

Crumbles and crunches under my boots

Seeing my mark 

I slow to a stop 

The house is vacant 

Full of dark emptiness

Standing under the elm tree 

Leaning on its branches

I wait patiently —

Chimes from the church begin

Ringing in the hour

A soft light appears

Glowing the once bedroom window

The light travels slowly, dutifully

Down the long hallway

Spilling into the void living room

That's when I see her

Brilliant and white

A delicate face stares out the window

I watch her a moment

Resist the urge to wave

Slowly her features fade 

Luminosity dims and vanishes

My walk back is long

Contemplating the reasons why

We both are ghosts

One living and one dead

But of the two —

Who is haunting who? 


Published by Kaitlin Buckley