This morning the ghost of my mother haunted me.
There was just peace, calm, a blue-green shadowy
crystal shimmering steady above my sleeping chair.
She came at a time when only I can see and know her-
before the last dream and dawn, before the others
awakening, she pulsated lovely and in proper motion
through the gaze and celestial grin.
In back of her, on the other side, a dazzling
trace of morning navigated the darkness.
I followed it into the familiar halogen streets
winter with aging trees, until the evening star
appeared, and light denied me the moonlight.
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