A Rained on Ghost (Guest Poet – Spotlight)

The rain little more than a dull

trickling, I huddle. I peer over

the curb’s edge.

The puddle of dreams, my mirror

of desire. My fairytale reflection.

I gasp.

I am not there. I am invisible. I

am little more than a shadow. A

ghost.

A rained on ghost.

© Catt Turner 2010

dettythecatt.blogspot.com

Inspiration hits at all sorts of strange moments. I can be cooking, cleaning, reading, working, when bang! It’s there and it won’t go away until I stop what I am doing and use it. With this, I was reading poetry when suddenly the idea of being invisible, or not having a reflection hit, and this is what appeared on the page.

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