Halloween. ‘All Hallows Eve.’ The day when we remember the dead and pay our respects; the evening children ‘trick or treat’ from house to house … dusk, when the line between the physical and ghostly worlds is thinnest and magic shows through …


SOUNDLESS                                                                       Copy of IMG_0237_inside the ruins

a house haunted by sibilants
their future a mist of visitation
the past lost by passage through closed doors
a drift of nothingness
through mirage    out of dream
moving down hallways of image
to translucence in a mirror

their names, published on church walls
finger-traced for reassurance
respond with dissolved solidity

no whisper, turn of heel
no stir of breeze or shout of welcome

Copy of IMG_3050 avenue of plane trees into Machecouleonly a shadow, a change of colour on the air
a hush that greys ambience

they stray along avenues of dusk
detected by a sense of ‘other’
where solitude was:  ghosts
locked by a clock whose hands
hold them haunting
in clouds of cypress housing


first published in Tidepool


summerfathercoverA Summer Father … Here is poetry … interweaving images culled from a wartime childhood with bittersweet memories of a “summer father”. Lynda Monahan

About Joanna M. Weston

Born in England, she lives in British Columbia. She is married with three sons, Joanna has an MA from the University of British Columbia. She has published in numerous anthologies and in magazines in Canada, the US, UK, and New Zealand, such as Canadian Women's Studies, Convolvus, Endless Mountains Review, Grain, Green's Magazine, Prairie Fire, Spin, Wascana Review, CBC Gallery, and many more...
This entry was posted in ghosts, Hallow e'en, haunting, poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Soundless

  1. dianaejones says:

    I really liked this poem, Joanna. Feliz Todos Santos ( Tous Saints, All Saints) manana, demain, tomorrow) Diana

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