Summoning the Ghost

Beside a kitchen range of dull silver.
That fancy types, often paint black.
The disconnect: it comes when time passes.
An itchiness to have it over.

I feel the ritual,
stolen from a old place.
That’s worked, as long as memory.
The range is cold; it’s unlit.

A full on visitation, follows:
seated, black, and reaching over.
Then gone, back into the metal.
did anyone see ?


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: