August 17, 2015 (I
was 70)
across the park behind the band shell
at the village hall library read a mag
around the school closed for summer
past the Catholic church under the water tower
Through a neighborhood where neither of us lived
I saw the ghost in the trestle underpass
looking for me as he waited there
to walk beside along the tracks
The few who knew him didn’t see me
The few I knew did not see him
We walked past twilight in solitary accord
eager and content in the presence of silence
shared a language of few words
and other sounds drowned in darkness
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