On cobbled streets,
I followed,
Trying to catch up
To a phantom.
That is what
You are,
Draped in the
Silken sheets of
My imagination.
My phantom.
And every time
I thought I caught
Up to you,
You slip through
My fingers like
Mists through boney
Branches.
Would I ever
Catch up to you?
Would I want
To catch up to you?
Some part of me
Fears what I would
Find if you became
Real, ceasing to be
A specter just
Beyond my grasp.
Alas,
The streets grow
Narrow, threatening to
Swallow me,
Crush me,
End me.
Then I find myself
Standing at a wall,
A dead end,
And yet, I am not
Dead.
Have I lost you,
Dear phantom?
Is this where my
Journey, my search ends?
A mouse scuttles by,
Nimble feet scraping
On stone, I follow his
Progress.
He slips into a doorway
I had not noticed,
Voices pouring out of
A little pub.
My search continues,
11 comments:
A brilliant write ... just loved it.
When you do catch up to the phantom, there's magic in the air.
Very clever...when one chases a phantom, one never knows where the journey will lead.
hmm.the journey doesnt end.only leads to new doors.such is life.great.
This is my favorite part:
"You slip through
My fingers like
Mists through boney
Branches."
Fantastic imagery, nicely suited for the phantom theme...
what an interesting fear there in the middle...the fear the phantom would be more real than ghost...i wonder if we all share that fear of actually achieving...
I really like this, the wording and the feel.
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Excellent write. Loved the conceit and the way you developed it.
A lovely take on the unknown, which strikes fear in our hearts. I wonder if its better to not know what it is, or to find out what it really is ~ I believe all of us has this fear, its the unconscious speaking ~
Well-written piece ~
Chasing phantoms in the dark... we've all done it at one time or another.
I like the structure and the composition of your poem, and long for a continuation finding the phantom of life
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