Ghost
Natalie Crick
Night is an open mouth.
Her touch minnows the water,
Whispers leaves as if
Through lace to some
Forbidden ear,
Combs my hair with glassy fingers,
A memory of her breath
Heard beneath the door,
The warmth apparent
That haunts her absent lungs.
Ghosts are there to see by.
You remember.
Natalie Crick, from the UK, has poetry published or forthcoming in a range of journals and magazines, including Interpreters House, The Chiron Review, Rust and Moth, Ink in Thirds and The Penwood Review. This year her poem, "Sunday School" was nominated for the Pushcart Prize.