Sta.sh
The Ghost Hunter
by `PinkyMcCoversong"The Ghost Hunter"
More than a hobby, these hallowed darks
are my calling in a whisper.
I know you can't hear. My own mother
would have me committed, even having heard so many
muffled voices on these recordings.
I'm here, they say – and they say it so often,
so well, a shadow in digital,
somehow lingering.
And I've felt them, too.
In hospitals, old hotels.
The fingers of the dead hush and wait and brush
along my shoulders, echo past the dust.
And I say,
Yes, I feel you,
turn on my microphone.
Later, on my laptop perhaps I'll see her,
an old woman, a child laughing.
In that second, where her voice cracked
across the planes, the world fell aside.
And then it is just me, alone,
with all spirits who might breathe the air anyway.
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