Marcellus to Horatio and Bernardo, after seeing the Ghost,
Some say that ever ‘gainst that season comes
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,
This bird of dawning singeth all night long;
And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad,
The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,
So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.
The spirit world the negative of this one,
soft outlines of soft whites against soft darks,
someone crossing Broadway at Cathedral, walking
toward the god taking the picture, but now,
inside the camera, suddenly still. Or the spirit
world the detail through the window, manifest
if stared at long enough, the shapes of this
or that, the lights left on, the lights turned off,
the spirits under arcs of sycamores the gray-gold
mists of migratory birds and spotted leaves recognize.
......
These are poems about shadows, poems about darkness, poems about shades in the form of ghosts and spirits...
Shadows
by Michael R. Burch
Alone again as evening falls,
I join gaunt shadows and we crawl
up and down my room's dark walls.
......
A gleaming glassy ocean
Under a sky of grey;
A tide that dreams of motion,
Or moves, as the dead may;
A bird that dips and wavers
Over lone waters round,
Then with a cry that quavers
Is gone—a spectral sound.
The brown sad sea-weed drifting
......
I'm such a quiet little ghost,
Demure and inoffensive;
The other spirits say I'm most
Absurdly apprehensive.
Through all the merry hours of night
I'm uniformly cheerful;
I love the dark, but in the light,
I own, I'm rather fearful.
......
These are poems about shadows, poems about darkness, poems about shades in the form of ghosts and spirits...
Shadows
by Michael R. Burch
Alone again as evening falls,
I join gaunt shadows and we crawl
up and down my room's dark walls.
......
Old names break into pieces
Somewhere along the timeline
Like handmade pottery
Thrown at the ground
Or at the walls, or at the window
Or onto the ceiling, caught in the skylight
Thrown up
......
As I lay here at night, in the soft pale moonlight
I hear from outside the wall,
The gusts, rapid and swift
The sound of your phantom call.
I think, wondering, waiting-
Is it my mind mistaking
The cold whipping wind
Which upon ride your whispers to me
......
I am a ghost, a spirit of the ages,
A phantom figure that never fades,
A memory of the ones who came before,
A whisper of the past that lingers more.
I haunt the halls of ancient ruins,
And wander through abandoned tombs,
I'm the echo of a voice long gone,
The distant notes of a forgotten song.
......
I am a ghost, a whispering shade,
A fleeting memory that's never quite laid,
A wisp of smoke that dances in the night,
A gentle breeze that carries out of sight.
I haunt the halls of ancient castles,
My presence felt in eerie cackles,
I wander through the forest's mist,
A haunting presence you can't resist.
......