©2021 Michael Raven

in the shadowlands
and their loathsome lonely
i talk to ghosts who
with nothing much to say
they nod and murmur
grow distant, fade
away away away
their talk, idle stuff
small talk soliloquy
lacking depth, substance
phantom words from
phantom mouths
and, like the ash in the plains
weightless, choking
and tastelessly crisp
lost paper dolls
at the forever party
doldrum