Arizona Ghost

A museum with a ghost

Arizona Ghost

The air is icy in Arizona,

pockets of smoke escaped my mouth,

invisible cold cigars from the time I was

experiencing.

Dark and chilling,

hands guided me, and whispers

influenced my path into the past.

 

An old photo brings me closer.

 

Smooth skin, yet horribly plain,

her scowl said more about her than

any museum could.

Again, the cold cigar smoke left my mouth.

 

A quick shadow darts.

 

With her judgment impaired, they say,

and no one around to witness,

the girl met death that day.

The dust kicked under the Sheriffs boots,

and her spirit followed close behind.

No Killer was named.

 

I turn to the pop of a novelty gun,

children dressed as cowboys.

 

 

This is entertainment to them.

 

Deeper into the museum, where all had

avoided,  

a residual round was fired.

The history is echoing.

A fossilized being is stuck in the rusty plains

of Arizona.

 

Stone tape gave her the ability to contact,

someone could finally see her.

 

Immense joy passes through me.

Her hand is my hand, her eyes see my time.

Is it you, Arizona ghost?

I feel her smile, the stretched skin

of a long dead relative

embraces me.

 

Author's Note

Feel free to tell me what I could do better!

Reviews

[Spilvenr]

Cannot say much. Only gave 75 because I have not been in the poetry game for a long time. I liked it though. It had that nostalgic feel to it, and brought up a memory or two of things in my past.