It’s not the case that we can’t seal it in;
we can contain them. I dust the rafters
and pour your cereal. You drink tisane,
always something with peppermint.
When it starts, we coast around
their moaning tides
quite gently, leave
no access to our remembrance.
When we trace their prints
we may not miss the claimed thing,
a clean white stone. Instead we resort
to doorways and river mouths,
seal it all in glass– and
that’s all it takes, in the end,
some minor lack and we
bring them back to voicelessness,
to jars without lid or lip.
But back to ghosts: you are only haunted.
Start with salt and iron.
How to treat your ghosts:
1 February 2015