Ghost in the Garden

The ghost in the garden
Cracks twigs as she treads
Shuffles the leaves
But isn’t there

The ghost in the garden
Snaps back the brambles
So they spring against my legs
But isn’t there

Draws spiders’ webs across my face
Breathes mist on my cheek
Whispers with bird-breath down my ear
But isn’t there

Tosses raindrops down from branches
Splashes the pond
Traces a face in it
That isn’t mine

Moves shadows underneath the trees
Too tall, too thin, too tiny to be me

Spreads bindweed out to catch me
Flutters wild wings about my head
Tugs at my hair
But isn’t there

And when I look
There’s only the bend of grass
Where her running feet
Have smudged the dew

And there’s only the sigh
Of her laughter
Trickling
Like
Moonlight
On
Wet
Weeds.