ghosts

How sad to be a ghost.

half in one world, half in another,

to carry so much wisdom, so much experience,

and no way to communicate, but through children's games at slumber parties,

Ouiji boards in college dorms,

Psychics in carnivals,

and old women staring into tea cups.

We don't respect the wisdom of the dead. 

They are consigned to glimpses in the corners of our eyes,

momentary reflections in windows,

and their voices sound like moonlight sliding on glass.