In death as in life,
always on the outside
looking in, skirting the crowd.
Avoiding the loud,
I listen through a cloud:
I am the midding ghost –
just haunting, not lost.
Kim M. Russell, 27th April 2021
Image by Steinar Engeland on Unsplash
My response to NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Seven
Today’s challenge is to write a poem inspired by an entry from the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, some of which should strike a chord with us or get us thinking about defining an in-between, minor, haunting feeling that we, and that does not yet have a name.
writing in north norfolk 
Stellar last line for this wonderful poem!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Angela!
LikeLike
I like it a lot, Kim. A lot of us are, or were, like this. I find as I grow older I get a little bolder, telling stories of earlier life and times, and so on (etc.).
BTW, I posted on NaPoWriMo eleven minutes after you, two up.
..
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Jim. I’m struggling to catch up today.
LikeLike
I think everyone can see themselves in this poem. I certainly can see myself in it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ve always hid behind books, and sometimes knitting, or sat on the periphery observing, and I hate being the centre of attention – even at my wedding.
LikeLiked by 1 person
If you’re going to have a ghost, this is the one to have. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Or if you’re going to be one! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ve been struggling to keep up, too, KR. I’m glad it’s almost May.
There’s nothing “almost” about your sevenling, though. Well done!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Just following in the steps of the sevenling master, Ron!
LikeLike
I do imagine a ghost would reflect it’s original body. (K)
LikeLiked by 1 person