We Ghost
A poem by Patrick Deeley

We Ghost
A Haunting at Woodlawn

Our thoughts nudge ahead of us to the dark.
We are led by a candle that tilts,
its flame cuffed by tiny, side-swipe blows.

Along corridors, in and out of cubby-holes
we ghost, while about us shadows
slide, stretch, form ellipses. We twist corks

off bottles until they squeak or pop, tinkle
fingernails against crystal bowls,
open hoarse cupboards where jellies set

and apples season. Midnight’s to our taste.
Here we parade old-style clothes,
gulp shivers, drown in silver pools of mirrors,

wrestle with wallpaper patterns
of thorn and ivied mansion. Once, ages ago,
fork lightning struck, frenzying us

all the short distance to the thunder.
Gallimaufry, blither, tomfoolery – our words,
even our jonty accents, fall asunder.

We are given to dreams but what the world
and its mother asks for is a sight
more substantial. We don’t say we’re afraid.

About the Author:

Patrick Deeley is a poet, memoirist and children’s author from Loughrea, County Galway. He has received many awards for his writing including The 2019 Lawrence O’Shaughnessy Poetry Award. Seven collections of his poems have been published by Dedalus Press, most recently ‘Groundswell: New and Selected’, and ‘The End of the World’.

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