My Dear Phantom

source

On cobbled streets,

I followed,

Trying to catch up

To a phantom.

That is what

You are,

Draped in the

Silken sheets of

My imagination.

My phantom.

And every time

I thought I caught

Up to you,

You slip through

My fingers like

Mists through boney

Branches.

Would I ever

Catch up to you?

Would I want

To catch up to you?

Some part of me

Fears what I would

Find if you became

Real, ceasing to be

A specter just

Beyond my grasp.

Alas,

The streets grow

Narrow, threatening to

Swallow me,

Crush me,

End me.

Then I find myself

Standing at a wall,

A dead end,

And yet, I am not

Dead.

Have I lost you,

Dear phantom?

Is this where my

Journey, my search ends?

A mouse scuttles by,

Nimble feet scraping

On stone, I follow his

Progress.

He slips into a doorway

I had not noticed,

Voices pouring out of 

A little pub.

My search continues,

My dear phantom.


Submitted to Poetry Pantry #141 on Poets United