ghost

You linger in all my blues and greens.
Stagnant water, flowing streams
Turned to stone with your soft touch-
Everything must come to dust.

You brought your old gray fingertips
Up to my Eden-apple lips.
Silenced now, they turn to rust-
Every tone that you have hushed.

But a muted color still can speak,
Though dimmer, darker now it seems.
These things I hear and feel and see,
A ghost of all that used to be.