Brent Raycroft | GHOST


That hearing of footsteps
just that once
when I was young—
the screen door first, then linoleum,
then carpet, then a pause
then footsteps again, returning,
carpet, linoleum, door,
but no one coming or going
no one crossing my view
where I waited,
turned in my chair, to see—
could just as easily have been the future reaching back
as the past reaching forward

is what occurs to me
as I walk into the empty house where I grew up
cross the kitchen, the living room,
stop at the empty window,
and as there is nothing left to do or take
turn and go
glancing sideways as I pass the room
where I sat each day after school
and see no one
turned in their chair
eyes wide at what was not there.


Author’s Bio

Brent Raycroft lives north of Kingston Ontario. His poems and reviews have appeared in Vallum, Prairie Fire, Arc, CV2, Freefall, Matrix, The Walrus, Queen’s Quarterly and elsewhere. In 2016 he self-published his short epic Sydenham to celebrate Canada 175.