So lonesome a ghost I’d be, <br />presuming I ever dared to haunt you at all; <br />none of your grand ghosts to brag of, <br />just a chill in the back hall. <br /> <br />I couldn’t walk through the furniture, <br />or frighten the cat into fits. <br />How could I manage to scare you? <br />I am the type who sits <br /> <br />somewhere in the attic or cellar, <br />close by the plumbing for heat, <br />crying a little for being left out, <br />while you, in your favorite seat, <br /> <br />mumble that you really must call the plumber <br />and tell him of the annoying leak <br />that stops and starts all the time – <br />and seems to get worse when you speak.<br /><br />Kathleen Griffin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/reflections-31/
