Old ghosts and spirits with nowhere to go in the light and the blue, worn out traces in the hollow in the book of all the dark places where names are writ.
Dark Places
To stand in dark places when the sun has gone; afterglow smearing a trail of fading red and orange and rose gold across the deepening sky. To stand in dark places thinking, I will not pass this way again now my name is written. Hope flaring like wild fire in the absence of the sun in the wind of a shredded star in the cemetery where the spirits have no name and the ghosts of the forgotten number more than the words in an old musty book.
And you wonder if they too stand in dark places, trapped in the quicksand of the hours sinking down through the night rimming the Earth’s shroud in deepening heaven’s blue; Nameless spirits and old tired ghosts with nowhere to go, standing in dark places in the sheer and the black. Nothing learned, nothing gained just windy voices in dark places and you wish you could turn away, you wish you could turn back the clock, you wish you were living and in trouble again when you stand in the sun and watch the light stream through what isn’t you.
Old ghosts and spirits with nowhere to go in the light and the blue, worn out traces in the hollow in the book of all the dark places where names are writ.
The bulk of the collection is eight short stories that are set in yesteryear. The compilation is filled out with four entertaining fantasy pieces and three poems.
