Asking Questions of Ghosts

I’m listening to music this afternoon
and you may know what that means.
There’s no telling
where it may take me
for the paths it opens
can be in any direction but up.
This time it has left me
talking to ghosts.
To be more precise,
asking questions of ghosts.
Asking those questions
I should have asked
when they were here in the flesh.
Some I’ve asked for years
and wondered
knowing there would never be an answer
for the answers passed
when they did.
Of course, I thought about the distance
in more than miles
between us; all of us
and wondered what questions
you have for me
and which will come with time.
There will surely be some
for even though I am not in your thoughts
these days.
Surely there will come a time
when the wounds cauterize;
when the scabs have long worn off
and a question or two
or a thousand may come.
Maybe, then, you’ll be like I am,
listening to music
with words that stab me now and then.
Thinking about old times,
places, events,
and of the twists and turns
that led here.
Wallowing in the music
and thinking about the ones
long gone
and asking questions of ghosts.

Michael Mathews
June 22, 2019
6:04 PM Saturday
On the edge of the lake