Sunday, April 21, 2013

NaPoWriMo 20

Ghosts in Glimpses

the attic is empty
warming walls tap out laments alone
but a familiar expression of incredulity
forming vaguely in a new face
with discerning eyes
the singular tilde twist of tiny mouth
a spastic, specific motion miming the adjustment of a hat, just so
and anticipation of wandering attention
a haunting of the blood

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