A Ghost As If I am not your keeper O ghost who crouches At the grave of my father. The body is dead; it is in the shade. A pale figure with a sheet for a robe rises from the earth (His hair black as ravens' feet). With cold-clay fingers, He could quell the soul’s fire. As if. A seagull cries In the salted air Like a baby Calling for its parents. There is blood on the land, Blood in the rivers too. You are not what you appear To thi

Outposts on the Edge of a Haunting By speech and by text we launch our raids against the unknown, yet never succeed in capturing what we pursue. Such expeditions are doomed from the start: there is nothing, no one, to seize. Only a ghost, a rumour haunting our stations at the frontier of a vast territory stretching behind us. Lately there has been talk of strange sounds arising in the in-between spaces, in the gaps between outposts we call words. But when we li