Theseus’ Ship

How Ghosts Are Made (Written October 25, 2019)

Bits and pieces keep falling off of me-
Memories and moments that as I grow I can’t retain-
Leaving a trail behind, a path from my past,
Of all those things that I was these are all that remain.
And, I wonder, perhaps, are we like Theseus’ ship,
Bit by bit replaced as the years go by,
And, if we took all the pieces we’d over time removed,
Could we rebuild the past? Turn back to a forgotten sky?
Could we sew up all those old habits and tastes that have changed
And make a memory of a person- a shadow, a fragment, a part.
And is this, perhaps, how a ghost might come to be?
The flickering glow of cast off shells of growing hearts?


I had this thought today. You read (and watch) all these different stories (especially at this time of year) about ghosts and hauntings and what those are and how they happen. And it just sort of…well, this poem happened. The end.


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