.
She slowly roamed around the room
Looking rather sad and forlorn
I happened to be in the library to clean
I was not in there long
.
I never saw her before …I had worked there for years
She was looking for something in the shelves
Her face so sad and filled with tears
.
I slowly walked up to her…she seemed not afraid
I asked her what was troubling her…she raised her head and said
“I have been looking for some clue…It happened so long ago”
I was here in the library and it was late so I started to go home.”
I don’t know what happened exactly, you see…I was crossing the street.
.
I happened to drop one of my books and bent down to retrieve it
All of a sudden…I saw myself back in the library not in the street.
.
I am looking for a newspaper…to see if I am in there in print
Did I die on that street.. In the library was I taken in?”
.
I felt so bad for this young girl…there was nothing I could do
But I took her to the place in the back
Where they had all the newspapers…old and new
.
I showed her the one she needed …and she hurriedly turned the page
A sadness came over her face…as in the obituaries she saw her name
.
So every night since then I have seen her as I work
We are sort of like friends …for all that it is worth
I can leave and go home….she is bound to stay
I don’t know if she will be there …from day to day
.
It's sad that some spirits would not rest in peace. Spirits should not be at places where they don't belong unless their minds are unsettling about something. Great job in the creation of this poem with the photo. Image.
There has been some unresting spirits in our worplace too of some past employees who died while still being employed. You can read about them in my story in the stories section, entitled, "Ghostly Encounters",
Reminds me of a rhyme we learned in school...
"Stop, look, listen before you cross the street
Use your eyes and use your ears before you use your feet."
And the newer one...
"Walk toward the light."
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
Using Calgary as a backdrop the author satirizes the self-serving nature of the public as it continues to fatten itself, not only physically, but egotistically as well.
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Blessings always, Christine
Thanks,
Chris
Regis
Ron
Unique poem. This entity has perhaps found peace in the library.
Lady Mary Ann
There has been some unresting spirits in our worplace too of some past employees who died while still being employed. You can read about them in my story in the stories section, entitled, "Ghostly Encounters",
Sandie
"Stop, look, listen before you cross the street
Use your eyes and use your ears before you use your feet."
And the newer one...
"Walk toward the light."