they kick up dust in a still room
they watch me tie trash bags
and when I turn to walk
they roll up like a shade
they know what I will write
and they knew I would write that, too
they haven't been this excited in a long time
if that's what you could call it
they wish they weren't needed
they wish they could just watch
they were perfectly happy where they were
but they have no choice
they know too much
and so do I
the ghosts are circling.
F.A.J.
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