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Ghosts

Richard K. Williams


In Wayne New Jersey
Hamburg Turnpike,
A bagel shop called Sam’s.
Taylor, egg, and cheese
on a sesame seed bagel
large black coffee no sugar.

Is there a metaphor there?
There isn’t. Just breakfast
traditional Jersey style.
Last night my son, his friend Andrew
and I went to Obal’s Inn.
A bar I hadn’t been to
in twenty-five years.

We had a few beers
shared some laughs.
I told stories about
what the place was like
when my then friends
and I would hang out there.
The place still looks the same
only the faces have changed.

There are ghosts around us.
If you sit quietly you can feel them
seeping in through the cracks
in your life’s distractions.
Wait long enough, and you
can hear their whispers
reminding you of your past.
Not all things said are pleasant
but you can’t help hearing them.

Later today we will gather
to console one another and
say goodbye to my son’s mother.
Who passed so quickly
no one saw it coming
it’s clear as day now.
Like that Taylor, egg and cheese
on a sesame seed bagel
there’s a rough hole
right smack in the middle.

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