fadin phantomes

Fading Phantoms

To get into the flat, from the communal hallway, I had
to go through the kitchen; empty, cooker, fridge gone,
the living room was bare too furniture and travel books
dumped on the rubbish tip by people who didn’t care to
know how other folks live. No curtains, a shaft of light,
unnerving silence, a hum that never changes beat; began
when man picked an apple from a juicy tree and learned
there is no free lunch and had to leave the enchanted, go
plough meager soil; the hum will end when last man has
gone and the light is switched off again.

On the floor black framed a leaflet, psalms suitable for
funereal: “Take my hand lord and lead me from
darkness to light” it struck me that the people I knew
as a child, are now dead and forgotten, in my memory
too, they are hazy figures; also the family ghost that
used to open doors, blow cold air when I was alone,
has left. Dropped the leaflet on the floor, which creaked
as the burden of this world’s travail rested on it planks,
so I left, didn’t close any doors, what’s the use, you see,
my past is a dream and abstract is my future.