THE GHOSTS OF LOVE

They do hover behind unspoken thoughts and when
We are together they gain a kind of substance
Wandering into the mind with longing, not
The tearing pain of immediate loss nor the indulgence of nostalgia
More a sudden intensity and the idea
She would have loved this, these people, this day
These pleasures, these delights
These people would have loved her.

Lucky to have ghosts
Blessed to remember
Gifted as we have been by their love
To be able to continue loving each other

The balm of summer evenings
A fresh whisper of moving air
The presence of those who are not here.



I read that somebody's mum died a day or two ago. Reading about it opened up memories I don't want to lose.