Seeking Love’s Ghost

Image:  Celine Ylmz at Unsplash

I haunted bookstores

Forever searching for him

(Not “stalking” back then)

Throughout years his hair lengthened

Grayed, unkempt or mere disguise


His overcoat from

Central casting, for certain

Vanity succumbed

To fierce need for privacy

And yet I recognized him


Heart etches details

Remembered and imagined

Love blurring Time’s lines

He’d favored e.e. cummings

Did he comb poetry shelves


Had he kept poem-

Filled letters, haiku I wrote

While his paintbrush worked

Covered vibrant canvases

Island’s tropical flowers


Rainy afternoon

I ducked into used-book store

Back to me, he stood

As though pondering far thoughts

Hands clasped, not shuffling volumes


I longed to tug sleeve

Speak words of yearning child, small

“Shall we go, Papa?”

Perhaps he heard tripping pulse

Turned… not my hero’s kind face


No, not him at all

Just stranger’s frown, reminder

Gone-love’s decades dead

Ā©Zelda Rene, 2021 ~ All rights reserved.