How I Became a Ghost
It was all about objects, their objections
expressed through a certain solidity.
My house for example still moves
through me, moves me.
When I tried to reverse the process
I kept dropping things, kept finding myself
in the basement.
Windows became more than
usually problematic.
I wanted to break them
which didn’t work, though for awhile
I had more success with the lake.
The phone worked for a long time
though when I answered
often nobody was there.
Bats crashed into me at night,
but then didn’t anymore.
The rings vanished from my hand,
the pond.
I stopped feeling the wind.
One day the closets were empty.
Another day the mirrors were.
–Leslie Harrison
I was introduced to Harrison’s poetry through friend and fellow blogger Virgin in the Volcano. Harrison’ first book, Displacement, was awarded the Bakeless prize for poetry in 2008 and will be available in July. She lives in Sandisfield Massachusetts.
I think “haunting” is the correct word. That last line is killer.
Spoken as a poet… Thanks for stopping in B.
Hi Deborah,
Thanks for (re) posting this!
Leslie
Leslie, It’s a GREAT poem. Thank you for stopping by.
[…] To read another poem by Harrison posted here last March, click here. […]
[…] posted poems by her on this blog before: The Four Elements, The Day Beauty Divorced Meaning, and How I Became a Ghost. This one appeared on Zócalo Public Square, and is IMHO another clear knock […]