Ghosts / Nocturne by Timothy Hobbs

Ghosts

They dance on slender threads of midnight

And whisper hollow memories from the

Dark corners of a dream.

 

The moon an austere brother.

The night wind a cold, brittle breath

Of their passing.

 

They search our souls for infinity,

For hopes we treasure

And fears trapped in the marrow 

Of our bones.

 

We sense their bitter hunger,

Their yearning for a taste of life,

For something they have long desired

Buried in the gray mist of their eyes,

Lost in the jewels of their tears.

 

We all have them

We all have ghosts.

 

 

 

Nocturne *

 

She emerges from a frosted mist,

A bitter moth dancing on the breath of night.

Hunger summons her from the damp of the grave,

Bears her in a soiled, linen dress

To satisfy my yearning for eternity.

 

Whispering of obsidian pools

Where stars shimmer beneath melancholy waters

She guides her feline tongue across my throat,

Presses cold, pale breasts against me.

 

She feeds and the mournful cry

Of a night bird dances through

The open window with a nocturne

For my restless soul.

 

* (originally published Summer 2016 by The Horror Zine online journal)

Timothy Hobbs is a retired medical technologist living in Temple, Texas. His flash fiction piece Luna appeared in the Deep Water Literary Journal. His anthology Mothertrucker and Other Stories and novel Veils were published through Publish America. Novels The Pumpkin Seed and Music Box Sonata and novella The Smell of Ginger were published by Vamplit Publishing in the United Kingdom and republished by Visionary Press Collaborative. Netherworld Books published his novel Maiden Fair.  A collection of flash and short fiction, In the Blink of a Wicked Eye, was published in 2015 by Sirens Call Publications. Tim’s author page can be found at amazon.com