Reluctant Ghost
by Dr. Charles A. Stone


The only evidence that I exist
are the footprints on my body
after passersby have moved
though the space I occupy.

I used to think that people
would feel a bump or temperature
drop when our bodies intersected,
mine invisible and intangible,
theirs fully vested
in protoplasm.

I have tried to speak to them,
tell them that I am here
in this dimension;
I have wished I could
cast a shadow to show them
where I am.

Despite the effort, I am
unseen, a ghost.
I’ve used up my allocation
of molecules and overstayed
my welcome, but I cannot take
the next step until someone
on the other side signs for me.

I wish I had known this
before I took my final breath.






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