The Ghost in the Tree



Featured art by L.H. Grey



Listen to Suggested Audio

Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross “On We March”





Pinch me


Am I real


Can you discern a pulse in my chest
Is it faint


Is its tempo quaint


Do you sense polite restraint


I feel





Wistful in my thinking
Blissful as I’m


Eyes wide shut as I’m blinking


Neither here nor there


But everywhere
All at once


Pinch me


Am I real


Does my blood not congeal


Just how raw must I deal


Do these tears count for nothing
are my ducts simply bluffing


I’m open for discussion
a musky book bound in
Jagged Barb


Skim reading at best
Compulsive at worst


Why do my words blur
are they being deferred


Are my lines that absurd
Cannot just you concur


Am I seen if not heard


Pinch me


Am I real


Is this pain that I feel
How much blood should I spill


Will I heal


Are those clouds rolling in at my feet


Why else would the balance have shifted


Am I lifted



Is this elevation
or just one last indignation


Melancholic migration


I don’t even know which way I am facing


Then again


Pinch me


I’m real


I can breathe
I can feel


Blow a kiss
Form a scowl


I can roar
I can prowl


I can leap from the dark
I can weep from the bark


I can withstand the storm
I can rise from this Fall


I’m a crisp autumn breeze
I’m the ghost in the tree


Can you see me






Richard Charles Stevens


Keeper of The Crimson Quill



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