Ghost Town

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I, gaze towards the cold and desolate moon,
listen to whispers wafted by lingering wind.
Scattering sweet visions lead round a street,
I, couldn’t decide whether feeling or dream.

And though love wore mask of drifting mist,
I, reached out and offered unwavering hand.
My heart is a ghost town, like a rose in sand.



Photo credits: Pixabay

Posting for “Flash 55 Plus” @ Real Toads

Posted on Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

& on Monday Writes @ My Blog – Verses


44 thoughts on “Ghost Town

  1. Truedessa says:

    My heart is a ghost town, love often leaves us feeling empty, I wonder can a rose bloom in sand. Is it strong enough to withstand the droughts of life?

  2. Mary says:

    Whew – this poem blew me away with its imagery. I can picture the heart as a ghost town, a rose in sand. Chilling.

  3. CC says:

    Ooh, I like the way this speaks to the idea of taking a risk in spite of the odds…putting oneself out there (albeit unwaveringly) even in the face of love masked like a mist. Wonderful.

  4. Jim says:

    The ghost land heart. I would have liked to know how you were feeling and what you were thinking when you wrote that. 🙂

  5. Brendan says:

    Excellent setting of mood and place in the mist of both–“feeling or dream?”–resolving into a surprising identification one’s own heart as the ghost town. Which suggest that we don’t find ghost towns, they feel us. Excellent ending metaphor for that.

  6. Kerry says:

    What I liked about the poem was that despite the speaker’s uncertainty, she still held out her hand – that speaks of trust and love.

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