Among the Ghosts

A Poem

There was once an old woman
you might call her a crone
who announced each new death
like a town crier as she
intoned with her ragged voice
“The deceased’s spirit is among the ghosts!”

Townspeople sometimes pointed
laughed and shook their heads
whenever the crone proclaimed
the town’s the latest death
walking on as if to forget
their own inevitable fate.

The young often believe death
is something the old do
and doesn’t concern them
until one of their own
dies in a accident
or from a disease like cancer.

Before they realize it
they are no longer young
time is pernicious that way
here today, gone tomorrow
their children mature and leave
so they cling to memories.

Soon follow the deaths
first sporadically
then with regularity
of former school friends
of a singular lover
until only one remains — you.

In the stillness of night
you dream you hear the echo
of the crone’s ragged voice intone
“Your spirit is among the ghosts!”

But your dream disappoints
there’s no heavenly glow
or angelic chorus
or damnation and hellfire
just darkness and the void
nothing more.