This about sums it up:
That handsome FBI agent from Twin Peaks...
Here's a poem by Elizabeth Jennings:
Ghosts
Those houses haunt in which we leave
Something undone. It is not those
Great words or silence of love
That spread their echoes through a place
And fill the locked-up, unbreathed gloom.
Ghosts do not haunt with any face
That we have known; they only come
With arrogance to thrust at us
Our own omissions in a room.
The words we would not speak they use,
The deeds we dared not act they flaunt,
Our nervous silences they bruise;
It is our helplessness they choose
And our refusals that they haunt.
No comments:
Post a Comment