Ghost of the past

The ghost of the past

is floating ‘round the house

in its milky whiteness

it glides and hovers

‘round the innermost room

that offers an access to the well

long ago walled

And so the closed house

is deprived of fresh water

which sweetness of taste

you have dearly missed

upon your palate

and which freshness

has long deserted

your face

You are trapped into a haunted house

with no other place where to go

and without the knowledge

of how to get rid of the ghost

And yet you trust that someday

the ghost will somehow

take his flight from a window

and be sucked away by the sky

and then you shall see

everything into a new light