Passing Through

You know I might not stay

It’s likely, people like me

We are ghosts, here one moment

Then, a whispery breeze tickling a tree

My surreptitious entrance

An early arrival, but I’m already gone

Swept away in a cloud-face

Gracefully, a majestic swan

A person’s worth is not on any ledger

Incalculable and wholly personal

No bank would use as collateral

But more than one man’s downfall

At night, the usual visions arrive

Circling over me like a ghost

Pointing the way, or just sway

Raising a hollow cup, a toast

My time burns off like an early mist

Sooner, rather than later I will go

Disappearing, but not forgotten

Remembered as a foreshadow

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