When Only Spirits Remain

When Only Spirits Remain
When only spirits remain…

When Only Spirits Remain

I. Spirits

When Erika and I first met I warned

her spirits follow everywhere I go

a void surrounds me out of time will show

my boyhood dog by my side always stayed.

The name of our first son from spirit realm

when I was ten instead of playing ball

I conjured on my Ouija board from Hall

growing Blue Belladonna with Witch Elm.

This world of spirits full of names and date

which soon would leave my mind without a trace

whether I see or not the truth still stands.

These forces on my life permutate

by placing pressure upon my living space

a place where only my God understands.

II. Ignorance

In young adulthood studied science stern

as religious belief and pushed spirits

to shadowy corner of eyes limits

the spirits took up none of my concern.

They walked with me within many forests

or on the road hitchhiking through every state

a young adult who did not care for fate

from one ocean to another one’s crests.

My friends a circle of the long deceased

or more like souls in search of a new home

or pets of mine who chose to stay nearby.

These figures never declined or decreased

they follow me wherever I may roam

in cold the solid breath of other’s sigh.

III. Lover’s Lament

So many hauntings from my long lost loves

where lover scorned would barter with the dead

to follow behind my footsteps instead

as reminder of our planted Foxgloves.

Do they all talk of me amongst themselves

or close their eyes during my intimate

moments alone, are our boundaries set,

do they sleep quietly upon my shelves?

I do not know the answers or reasons

there is no effect from their presence here

to look over my shoulder at a chill.

This part of me reminds one of seasons

where Winter’s storms would fill one with cold fear

to notice movement near me never still.

IV.  Who Remains

A dying breed of Catholic Spiritualist

to talk to dead while attending each Mass

to look over my shoulder when the Priest pass

at Church or home I am somnambulist.

In grey area of black and white film

they stand and look upon me as I grow

until each white hair on my head will show

through all these years they do not overwhelm.

These spirits prove that some of life lingers

beyond the moments that we live each day

within a darkened void over shoulder.

A small feeling between thumb and fingers

whose presence here will never go away

even when, with age, I seem much bolder.

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Jamie Lee Hamann
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Jamie Lee Hamann

My name is Jamie Lee Hamann and I have a passion for writing short fiction and poetry. I started writing for TCE around 2015 and since then I have finished seven collections of poetry and plans for more. I currently live in Lemmon Valley NV with my family. If you desire to find my other work on the internet feel free to stop by my website simplepoetics.weebly.com. The website offers articles on poetry, poems, and links to all my other writing.

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