Song of the Spirits 
A poem by Lea Galanter

Song of the Spirits  

We create our own ghosts  
rising up from ancestral graveyards  
whispers moving through time  
all thin light and no action 
 
the sainted dead refuse to leave  
casting shadows on things theirs 
delicate as a cat’s tail in the night  
they listen for their own breath  
try to touch the untouchable  

barely out of sight  
are they not more than dust  
more than emptiness  
they mourn for us  
who do not yet know 

About the Author:

Lea Galanter is a Seattle-area editor and writer with a background in history and theater. After writing plays for many years, she stumbled into the world of poetry and has never looked back. Her poetry has been published by Really System, River and South, Panoply, Young Raven’s Literary Review, Poetica Review, Unlost Journal, and in several anthologies. She ventures regularly into the spaces between words seeking secret messages.

Poetry Breakfast publishes a new poem every weekday morning.
If you’d like your poems considered for publication visit our Poetry Submissions page.

Follow Poetry Breakfast
Facebook