My ghost lives
in my diaphragm.
Waiting for the good days
when I meditate in the morning
and journal afterward
when I read Tarot for myself
and listen to the universe
when I listen to birds
and care about the sound of waves
enough to draw the headphones from my ears.
My ghost lives
in my diaphragm.
Waiting for one more breath to join us.
I really enjoyed this poem, and that last line is powerful!
Thank you – it has good bones I think and I can’t wait to see where it goes.
Lovely. Incredible. Fantastic. I really enjoyed this one.