sweet ballet of ghosts

the northern lights are bright tonight

a sweet ballet of ghosts

breathing in the ashes of

that bitter, sour sky

a world with no fairies

or gods or rising smoke

a world with no cocoa

or stars or moonlit eyes

a hundred sheets of paper

a thousand drops of ink

inside the ancient stories

that tell us how to think

a child who's afraid

of getting old and grey

as they watch their own flesh

start to slowly rot away

as they swim through the sea

of black stones and white dust

tinfoil, shaky hands

and phone lines to foreign lands

but who can really blame you

when the only loving blanket

that can get you through the winter

is just a reach away

as you travel down the stream

towards the ever-setting sun

you know there's nothing left

and there's nowhere left to run

december 16, 2021