My Visitor / The Dead Woman in The Chair by John Grey

My Visitor

In hoping for a life restored,
I look upon
a wisp of the impossible.

In midnight silence,
what I see is what I cannot have.

A ghost appears
at the end of the bed
and is yearning to be true.

It tries to come toward me
and I reach out to it
but outstretched arms lead nowhere.

Around me,
reality takes to the shadows.

Its replacement is visible
but of no use.




The Dead Woman in The Chair

Yours is the silent repetition
of death.

You sit upright in a chair
with my voice in one ear
and an angel’s in the other.

I beg you stay.
He pleads for you
to take his hand,
fly off with him.

Suddenly.
your head flops down

It’s a yes
but it’s not aimed
at anybody.

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Sheepshead Review, Stand, Poetry Salzburg Review and Hollins Critic. Latest books, “Leaves On Pages” “Memory Outside The Head” and “Guest Of Myself” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Ellipsis, Blueline and International Poetry Review.