A Ghost Of You

by

Phil Pochurek

I never paid much attention
To time, before I met you.
Then the value of every hour, every minute
That I could spend with you
Became clear to me,
And I'm reminded of how much I miss you
When you're not here.
There's a ghost of you
In your perfume
In the bath, from your wake,
When you left the room, only moments before.
That is so sweet, so fresh
I can still see your image
In the steam, on the mirror,
Over your lipstick kiss
That was left for me there.
And as I press my lips to the glass
For one last taste of you,
I'm reminded again of all the reasons,
For all the things that you do.
Why I'm kissing your lips
When you're not even here.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at echoes of oppression
by: Uche Peter Umez
from: Owerri, IMO, Nigeria

To visit all of Phil Pochurek's poems, click HERE

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