Siena Ghost

 

Inquisitive ghost

haunting bright Siena day

with curtained glances

 

Photo and haiku by Clinock

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Ghost Ride

Sometimes,

in this season

of dying and farewells,

even the broken,

the rusted,

the rejected

are touched by magic,

garlanded in lights

and flowers,

resurrected

and honoured

among fallen leaves.

 

Hereabouts

autumn ghosts

still peddle summer,

wheeling and whistling

through

the tenuous sunlight

of October streets.

 

Photo and Poem by Clinock

Autumn Blues.

Summer’s blood

thinned by foghorns

and chilling rain

turns tentative,

injecting veins

with a shivering

stuttering neon.

Stretched by wind

skin is tightened

into geometries

of angled cold,

light weakens,

eyes struggle

against sleep.

The season moves

with the languorous

throb and angst

of Tchaikovsky

grinding October blues

through the smoky air

of burning leaves.

Are these the colours

of rusting memories

of a summer gone?

the falling glories

of the wings of trees?

or the ragged motley

of a jester at a wake?

 

painting and poem by clinock (edited redux)