chris-r-0556 Image by Christine Renney

I am walking away from the road at last. The footpath is leading me across a field and through waist high corn or is it wheat? Anyhow, it is a sea of something and in this dull light it isn’t golden but brown.
I resist the urge to stop and turn. I don’t want to know how far I have managed to stray from the road, and whether or not I can still make out the signpost at the edge of the path. Instead, I focus on the field, on the corn or the wheat or the barley or whatever it is. I am aggravated by the fact that I don’t know. It is a little thing and yet it feels important, something that not only I but everyone should know.
Reaching out I trail my hand through the crop as I walk. Just a few months ago I could have unearthed the answer, quickly and easily, the means to do so at no more than an arms length. Tapping a few keys I would have gathered up the information, conjured the facts and figures, photographs and statistics onto a screen.
Stopping I realise that I am delving into my empty pockets. First my jeans and now my coat. I am searching for my phone. It is futile, I know, a pointless act because I remember quite clearly destroying it, the pulling apart and rendering it useless. Yet I can’t stop myself from looking and, using the palms of my hands, I start to pat myself down.
In my confusion, I turn and in order to stop this, to still myself, I start to move again and I am walking back. Toward the road.

10 thoughts on “GHOST LETTER 28

  1. For me there are two ways to interpret this piece, Mark: the positive slant is that, no matter how alienated we might feel there is always a way back or (and for me this is the preferred reading) no matter how hard we might seek to strike out and really discover who we are (symbolised by the distruction of the mobile phone) we end up beingpulled back to someone else’s ‘reality’. A fine continuation.

    1. Thanks Chris. Yes I right there’s definitely a more positive slant emerging , it feels right although I’m not sure it’s happening at the correct pont in the narrative! I think when I’m finished the series will need a good edit.

      1. Perhaps, but then again this has an almost sub-conscious feel about it (the series that is), as if it comes from somewhere inexplicable. I don’t think I’m making much sense here: point is that if it’s not broken…

  2. Whenever I see you’ve written and posted something, something in me skips a step… the word awesome crosses my mind. Moments later I’m drawn into your well crafted space… never disappointed. Or more simply stated – I love your writing Mark.

    1. Thank you Chris. That really does mean a lot to me. And I’m so glad that I’ve discovered your site, I think your poetry is amazing.

  3. So…he’s wandering out of the city now. Hmmmmm….To me he seems less confused. Even a little more substantial as far as ghosts can be. Chris’s trees are nice and spooky too in that light. Carved a bit by wind and circumstance. How come I feel I’ve somehow, some way been here myself before? You’ve tapped into it again Mark. Yup…this is a good one.

    1. Thank you Jana. I like the idea of him becoming more substantial, the possibility that he might be able to come back.

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