Ghostline

Ghostline

I know this is my city
Yet I’ve never seen this town
Spirits stroll cracking streets
Fly over cars like buzzed dancers at bars
Twisting down with sharp, snappy sounds
So elegant cats stare

The grand boulevards now rivulets
Fish flee herons, jumping to cold currents
Running to a lake broad as the sky

I follow my footsteps to my old bookstore
Flow through the door

The classics still columned in colorful bands
High on the stair look down on my hands
My feet are suspended in air
Let’s hope we ghosts live long lived lives

I’m home but what’s this place?
What sparked the gods to this?
Why is my city surrounded
By a vast salt green sea?

I still think I recognize everything
Yet it’s no more there than I