i run into wolves running
into me into mirrors into
switchbacks into endless
forests along endless rivers
i run into wolves running
into walls into hiding into
rebirth into fires in rooms
that they may not ever find
i run into wolves running
into death into memory
into the precision of a
scalpel into the western west
and therein i die and i die
and i run and i die and i
see it there on the shelves
the dust attracted to the
light like moths attracted
to fire like wolves attracted
to movement to packs to
new mentality until they too
die. and i too die. and if
not now then when and
if not now then when?
then when?
we are ghosts. then when?
ghost #13 is something something something. they are from somewhere, sometime. this one is dedicated to someone someone, another ghost, i’m sure.
Photo: Ruslan Bardash