I go up to the attic
and light some candles.
I put on Pink Floyd’s
Wish You Were Here
try to summon your ghost
but you don’t come.

I wait for you
in the frigid room
of this vacant house
where windows rumble
with rattleboned hope.

At midnight calm
when day is undone
I talk into the dark
counting spirit orbs
but you never come.

At forest’s edge
whispering wishes
when the birds have flown
nine, ten, eleven
I wait for you.

This is a piece from my upcoming book, Hungry For Ghosts, and it will be available for purchase on July 29.