Changing Places
I wondered where he had gone,
the man who would sit
on this bench
every day
singing
in his solitude.
For he was always alone.
I wondered if he was haunted as I am haunted
haunted by my ghost or his.
It knows us so well, that ghost,
transforming us
from one to the other
like creatures in a fairy tale,
their comings and goings beyond our control.
And now I know.
Though it may seem
only one of us is here
with arms outstretched
absorbed and pondering
I know our one is two.
We’re transformed now
and we sing in harmony.
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