Ghost Villanelle
We never saw the ghost, though he was there--
we knew from the raindrops tapping on the eaves.
We never saw him, and we didn't care.
Each day, new sunshine tumbled through the air;
evenings, the moonlight rustled in dark leaves.
We never saw the ghost, though: he was there,
if ever, when the wind tousled our hair
and prickled goosebumps up and down thin sleeves;
we never saw him. And we didn't care
to step outside our room at night, or dare
click off the nightlight: call it fear of thieves.
We never saw the ghost, though he was there
in sunlit dustmotes drifting anywhere,
in light-and-shadow, such as the moon weaves.
We never saw him, though, and didn't care,
until at last we saw him everywhere.
We told nobody. Everyone believes
we never saw the ghost (if he was there),
we never saw him and we didn't care.
By Dan Lechay
American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright (c) 2003 by Dan Lechay. Reprinted from "The Quarry," Ohio University Press, 2003, by permission of Dan Lechay. Introduction copyright (c) 2008 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.
This one is topical to a bit ago, halloween. Do the drifting veils of rhyme and meter disclose a ghost, or is it a ghost?
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This reminds me a lot of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, the way this ghost is just always there but never seen... great poem. I enjoyed it a lot.
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I don't get it
I know there's form poetry, a sort of crossword puzzle approach where meter goes in one direction, rhyme in another, and theme follows suit along it's own path, but I just don't get it. It's a fine poem, but it seems to stagger quite a bit to me in the reading. I dunno...maybe I just don't get poetry. -
I love the Villanelle and the repeating lines here make a maximum impact priming the subconscious to question what really does lurk among the shadows... Thanks for sharing this gem!!!
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hmmm...
i like the rhyming of this poem, and the repetition. It tells of little kids that believe in Santa, of superstitious cat ladies that think their felines can talk, and wary travelers along the road of life, feeling their skin prickle with goosebumps at the thought of what is or isn't there -
Definitely a halloweeny-feel to this. But it's done so well, it's worth reading anytime of year. Thanks for sharing it.
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Ah spooky. Perhaps the ghost helped a bit with this.
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Ghost or no, it's human for sure.
Tiki Cat, Ghost Buster of Cats
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