Poem: Haunt

Haunt

It’s a common story, me

circling the Union at Stanford, flipping through a paper

sighs pouring from the buildings like black coffee then

Echoing archways near the fountain

meaningless to anybody else but

there you are

Rollerblading by in your little black dress as I

pop you into my camera for Christmas

Ghosts are meant to be cursed

but I have learned to hold my tongue –

you have this habit of bestowing your features on

leading ladies, jewelry shop clerks

high school girls on beaches

I’m sure they’ve spotted my mystified gaze

tossed over my shoulder like a blue scarf at their

shifting triangle smiles, apple-cider eyes

white chocolate dimples, high-wire curls

Come back when you like, shade of my heart

haunt me, shake me, draw me out

no need to call ahead

because these days

when the words pour out of me like silvered breath

I couldn’t bear any less

I look up from the page to find you

framed by the window in a halo of fireflies

a Russian princess in a dark coat

and then, you come in

and sit at my table

First published in Mystic River Review

From the collection Great Showtunes of the American Stage  

Photo by MJV