In the silence of the night 

interspersed by soft snores,

a ghost garden is where I walk,

waiting to hear a voice 

that death has silenced years ago.

Waiting and hoping each night to dream,

of long dead blooms lying scattered

as a shadow moves and little tiger baby

appears, in the shadow, is it there

or not? I want to see you again. It’s plain

as a ghost even, to keep you here

within my bandwidth, talk to you

In hums and whines, in meows and purrs?

THAT I think I could learn. Like the promises 

I have made and failed to keep,

Forever blazing in a corner of my eye.