the ghosts of winter

as i run down the snowy path
in the quiet of the falling snow,
i encounter no one
save the ghosts of winter.
they are benevolent spirits,
enjoying the stillness and the emptiness
which i in my own way am
disturbing.
but as long as i make no sound –
save for the inhale exhale inhale exhale
exertion from the run –
they will not disturb me any more
than i disturb them.
i run back home,
the only footsteps in the snow my own,
but i know i’m not alone.
for while the ghosts leave no trace,
you feel their comforting presence.
they are there,
in the whispers of the wind,
and in the snow taking care to cover
the memories of me,
soon to be forgotten, not unlike
the spirits themselves.
.
.
.
.
.
.
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the ghosts of winter, 1.12.19

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