The past never leaves it haunts us from the shadows
Watching, waiting
Floating on the periphery
A fleeting perception of days gone by, people gone.
I see it sometimes dancing in the corner of my vision.
Tremors in the air
Moving towards me in a crowd.
As others shift around me.
I stand still listening to the echoes of the past
Through the sea of time.
Cold quivers racing up your arm
And we all hold hands with the dead
