the woman in white

behind me
a woman in white emerges
leading the pack of hungry ghosts
that wait for me
the veil is so thin now
I hear their whispers

she stands at the crossroads
holding a serpent staff
she is my guard 
her torch lights an unknown path
she smells of jasmine and moonflower

behind her are all the lost souls
her entourage is flanked
by the grim reaper
at first I mistook his scythe for a pointy hat
but I could not mistake his grin for a smile
only sickness was seeping out
his pointed teeth

a wild woman sits in front of a fire
her hair is the color of mine
an ancestor from long ago
sees me through her smoke conjure

my new friends won't leave my side
I am one of them they tell me
I see them in windows
mirrors
in pools of water

the woman in white
is holding a ring of skeleton keys 
she jangles them so that I can hear
my destiny

I open the door
winding wind sweeps its way in
spirits ride along 
contorted faces stretching like putty
into smiles so ghastly
I have to look away

they are under my charge now
a gift from the woman in white
my vagabond spirits fill the house
with a sigh
changing forms to see what
pleases me
they touch everything
like too eager children
moving my knick knacks about
until I ask them to be still and quiet

they return to the back porch
to wait until needed
turning their strange faces
up to the moon
in meditation they freeze like statues
I put the key in my pocket for 
safe keeping

as the woman in white
disappears in the windows reflection
the grim reaper
takes a bow
and laughs when his scythe
comes too close to me
and I jump

his laugh is thunder
cracking the branches of a tree
he follows her faint reflection
and I take a deep breath
so glad it is not my last