Goodbye, Ghost

GOODBYE, GHOST
By Brenda Braene

I leave the grounds of the Alamo.
The ghost walks with me as far as the gate.
I cross the threshold.
He tries
And fails.
I take his hand
and try to pull him across.
His hand pulls away
As a chasm opens between us
The chasm of the living and the dead.
He is trapped.
I make my own traps.
I watch him stand
With tears trickling down transparent cheeks.
I turn and walk away
Feeling crueler than the soldier who killed him.

I turn back
He lifts his hand.
I smile.
He disappears.
My window overlooks the garden.
I look for him.
I hope he is free.
I see him wandering
Lost and alone.
Through uncaring tourists
Try to make contact
But they can't respond.
I visit every day.
We walk the grounds together.
He tells me his story. His longings.
The final morning
I go to say goodbye.


Brenda Braene is a frequent contributor to Circadian Poems. Her blog is Poet Meets Muse. She and her sisters love Jane Austen; they plan to resume “The Austen Conversations” on their blog, The Three Braenes, this fall.