Friendly Ghosts

i slept
in my childhood bedroom
and saw
shapes
long
lost
in the shadows
of memory.

i lay in the old bed
and conjured
friendly ghosts
and saw the
dance of the blinds
and heard the
hum of the old
air conditioner --
rheumatic, now,
but still the white noise
of innocence --

i sank into the sleep
of many decades past
and felt them fold around me.

when i awoke,
my joints ached
and my chin sagged
but my brow was smooth:

the past steps forward
like a shy mare
tosses its head
turns the other way
but has nodded

you are all still with me,
friendly ghosts,
you are all still
my friends
and protectors.

We shall dance,
time's fools,
around the maypole
of memory,

til memory
beckon us
home.

--Mr. Gobley