Ghosts

From The Merit of Light

By: Stephen Rifkin - Sep 19, 2014

Ghosts

As you quit the village,

In the strange economy of motion,

And into a humane sky, steer on the road

Cascading, onrushing, with you,

The essential lift and tumult steady.

A line of pursuit thrums in the psyche.

Fast at the wheel,

As you slalom down cypress, past poplar,

And through olive grove,

And distance from disaster your old life,

You look high and away to thick, ochre walls of the new.

We drive through each other,

Journeying to separate haunts.