THERE ARE GHOSTS IN THE GROVES (I)
Victoria Nations

There are ghosts in the groves, and
some call me to come, and
others warn me away, and
they whisper when they think I notice them, and
most of the time I ignore them, but
sometimes their voices spark
memories that are too clouded
to call pleasant or unhappy, and
the rays of sunshine that shine through them
may be obscuring real figures, or
perhaps those are the ghosts

There are ghosts in the grove, and
they flit about, and
I’m filled with happiness to see them, but
others hide or
pretend to be part of a tree, their
gray shadows amongst the dark, and
they only show up when
the sun goes behind the clouds, or
in the evening, when they are the only
shadows moving through the trees, but
there is no wind