Ghost Whistle

Abandoned Rail Bridge, Japan. Photo by 小巨人看世界.

Ghost Whistle and Small Prayers
By Annette Marie Hyder

Ghosts walk these old wooden tracks,
tracks crumbling and green concomitantly,
the ghosts of lovelorn suicides

who jumped from the speeding train un-propitiously.
Velvet fronds swish in the damp breeze
as if in response to spectral steps
and leaves whisper overhead.
Each ghost step is a dog whistle
that only the ears of the wraith train can hear
and answer — in its own long wail.

The stirrings of small secret things —
mice (did you know that mice make a chirping sound
and have courting songs they sing to woo a soft
micetress? small prayers those), sturdy beetles, and lizards
of questionable character, to name a few —
coincide with a shower of shivers and a rustling
in the undergrowth of time that vines
along this sideways ladder.
In the canopy high overhead
each trembling leaf is a small
poignant love letter
to the sun.