The things of the past still linger
in the attic rooms of my soul
all that was ever lost or found
endlessly walking the boards
my secrets and lies
and unspoken truths only revealed
by the light of the moon
in slivers of silver and soft songs
drifting on a carrying wind
I am dancing with my ghosts
where sorrow holds me close
and a minute feels like forever
time is spiralling away
hours slide into nightfall
and you linger just out of reach
© Ann Bagnall
Annie's Poetry 