Spiralling stairs worn and split
up to the loft where the seasons did shift
touching the wall as the ones who are gone
getting the feeling you’re the one to belong.
Plaster crumbles to your touch
those feelings of dread beginning to clutch
hoping you will not but knowing you will
a strange little child from memories grown still.
Mem’ries are strange that we know
as hard as we try we can’t let them go
that same little kid from so long ago
turns out to be us
if you just let them grow.
(Note: the photo is from the website of a paranormal investigator: ginalanier.com/ghostsphotosparanormal.php – Ed.)