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"Ghost Lover"

Nights ripe with autumn
Thick with the sound of crickets
And the south wind

Ghostly fingers hold back the curtain
Pulling to and fro
Inky loveliness of shifting light

A ghostly breath, my ear laughs softly
A whisper and tickle
Betraying the giver

Turning colder, the wind stretches through the window
Telling secrets of the past
Kissing, mournful and slow
My ghostly lover

The fall morning
Crispness at edges of grass
Webs of bare branches brush the horizon
As if made from black lace

Leaves, golden and ruby
Stir a longing deep
Waiting for the coolness of night
Waiting for the harvest moon rising
Ripe and lush with pregnancy

Deep in cocoons of quilts, I shiver, and listen
Wild geese overhead, crying
Haunting the moon embraced night

I wait for a caress long known, long awaited
The curve of an ear, an alabaster thigh
Shivering
Slowly the night empties into dawn

Day begins, golden
The mystery of an autumn night lost in the sun
My ghost lover gone
On the wings of wild geese

Learn more about this author, Carla Heimerl.
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