Pine Row Ghost

Pine Row Ghost

From the middle, the unfinished is feared the most

The freedom found in futures

and pasts stalked by mourning

The gift and the curse that is Pine Row Ghost

One man’s boundary, another man’s boast

Where are you stopping or starting,

dividing or protecting?

No secrets revealed down Pine Row Ghost

Oh misty morning, no friend or heavenly host

I crave comfort to press on,

a hint of best direction

The silence is the wisdom of Pine Row Ghost

No condemnation; no glass raised or offered toast

You’ve not grown or regressed;

aged a day or began anew

There may always be a Pine Row Ghost