Return to the Gray World

I lay upon the nexus of time.
Clouds march in the endless vault above.
The gray world is beautiful now,
As I consume the roses in my garden.

Suspended animation of the soul.

This is not a ghost as once was thought,
But a spirit and a shadow
Who has a home.

I stretch out my arms,
And drift across the street,
Horizontally but eyes fixed ahead.
The chimes move with the wind.

I called her on the phone.
We spoke.

7-12-09