Hauntings

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I believed in ghosts
Who haunt and taunt
Their muffled
Midnight meanderings
Claps and taps
Echo in other rooms

I once saw spectral spirits
Pass through a bedroom wall
When young
But now I suffer
Poor night vision
And I only
See shadows
Gliding, hiding
On obscured walls

If I could talk 
With the dead
Would I listen?
More than I speak?
Are you friend or foe?
What is it you seek?

I don’t talk
With the dead
We visit instead
In dreams
Reliving good times
Rewriting the bad.

My ghosts
Are my friends.

I used to be afraid
Of ghosts
But now I know
They are not foes
But rather friends
And I look forward
To our midnight adventures
Celebrating the good
Repairing the bad.