A Ghost Abandons the Haunted | Poem by Katie Cappello

Here’s our Halloween poem for this year, in the thin dry voice of a ghost, as captured by Katie Cappello who lives in Northern California.

Here’s our Halloween poem for this year, in the thin dry voice of a ghost, as captured by Katie Cappello who lives in Northern California.

A Ghost Abandons the Haunted

You ignore the way light filters through my cells,

the way I have of fading out—still

there is a constant tug, a stretching,

what is left of me is coming loose. Soon,

I will be only crumbs of popcorn,

a blue ring in the tub, an empty

toilet paper roll, black mold

misted on old sponges,

strands of hair woven into

carpet, a warped door

that won’t open, the soft spot

in an avocado, celery, a pear,

a metallic taste in the beer, a cold sore

on your lip—and when I finally lose my hold

you will hear a rustle and watch me spill

grains of rice across the cracked tile.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation, publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2009 by Katie Cappello, from her first book of poetry, Perpetual Care, Elixir Press, 2009. Reprinted by permission of Katie Cappello and the publisher. Introduction copyright ©2010 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.