Those Ghosts – John Short

You can’t seal up death
despite the rituals,
it abides in tobacco
pouches and old armchairs
and abandoned shoes
worn once to tread
the winding alleys
of this town.

In sleek black cars
and creaking wardrobes
with their mothball smells,
in distant excursions
recalled on paper scraps
that fall by chance
from picture frames.

You can’t bury the past
its ghosts haunt
the edges of today,
persist in shadows
that linger a moment
too long when you drift
into that room with
your thoughts elsewhere.


John Short lives in Liverpool again after years in Europe. He’s a member of Liver Bards and reads at venues around Liverpool and beyond. Widely published over the last few years, most recently in Blue Nib, Envoi, Stepaway, Picaroon and forthcoming in South Bank Poetry, Sarasvati and The High Window.

Cabinet Of Heed Contents Link 26

Image via Pixabay

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