Friendly Ghosts *, Revision II Options

[Psyche]

REVISION II


I stroll through crowds,
awareness unexceptional today,
savouring aromas of ripe watermelons.
Perhaps I’ll take that yellow pumpkin
and a ½ kilo of kiwis?

Is that your face in the market?

Unpredictable, yet constant.
No confrontations.
Profile’s turned away now.
I’ll take the kiwis, Rosa,
then a watermelon and four beets will do.
No pumpkin today.

Did I glimpse your face in the market?

Blue blue eyes,
hairline slightly receding,
trim beard, whimsical air of comedy.
A good likeness, yes.
Right! 10 pesos it is...adiós Rosa,
I’ll hurry back now.
Must check in at 9 a.m.

Why do you hover in the crowds?

In appearance weightless,
you don't beset me;
a sporadic silhouette
amidst resolute shoppers.

A presence in improbable spots:
gestures in queues at the ticket office
(you loved theatre!),
the shape of a head, outlined in dimness.
One gets used to it.

Friendly features come and go:
my eyes devour them,
my heart is a crystal goblet
brimming over with fine reminiscences.

I allow ghosts to visit,
then send them on their way.

Sylvia Evelyn, Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia. 2015.








ORIGINAL

Whose is that face in the market?

I stroll through crowds,
awareness unexceptional today,
eyeing some watermelons.
Perhaps I’ll take that yellow pumpkin
and a ½ kilo of kiwis?

It’s a familiar face. Seen it around.
Profile’s turned away now.
- I’ll take the kiwis, Rosa,
not the pumpkin today,
and I think four beets will do.

Whose is that face in the market?

Blue blue eyes,
hairline slightly receding,
trim beard, whimsical air of comedy.
A good likeness, yes.
- Right! 5 pesos it is...adiós Rosa,
I’ll hurry back now.
Must check in at 9 a.m.

And whose is that face in the market?

Standing your ground,
in appearance weightless,
a sporadic silhouette
amidst resolute shoppers.
I get visits in improbable spots:
a gesture in queues at the ticket office
(you loved theatre!),
the shape of a head, outlined in dimness.
One gets used to it.

Friendly ghosts come and go:
my eyes devour them,
my heart is a crystal goblet
brimming over with fine reminiscences.

I allow ghosts to visit,
then send them on their way.

Sylvia Evelyn, Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia. 2015.

[Psyche]

Hi Eisa, Liz and Critter,
I apologize for not acknowledging your helpful comments and crits till now. Liz, you've done a lot of work on my poem! I shall have to go thru' all your suggestions carefully, as you've made so many. Too late now, must off to bed.

Several people seem to have a problem with my "whose is that face...etc.", so I'll mull over that issue...see what I can come up with!

And the repetition of "ghost" too often.

Tx a lot! Hope you all get off to a good start in 2016!

Syl***