The Ghosts are Confused by Time

They sense the clocks have changed

but can’t tell if an hour’s been lost or gained.

It’s a struggle to name the day of the week

Monday or Friday it’s all the same.

There isn’t a deadline they have to meet

no future appointments they need to keep.

Like insects trapped between panes of glass

the ghosts feel held between night and day.

They appear in a novel no one will read

and they can’t be bothered to turn the page.

The ghosts long to kick through falling leaves

but the seasons forget to change.