In the beginning

I was my own ghost.

A small phantom

With no home to haunt.

Floating over the earth

Watching the living.


Watching the living

Hoping for clues.

How to live

What to do.

But their laughter and tears

Haunted me more than myself-

My transparent otherness.


At first you did not see me

With your feet on the ground

And your eyes fixed, purposeful.

You were solid; yes and to you

I tethered myself.

No more floating

But following.

One human step

Then another.

That was the beginning

And there is no end.


By Fiona Lochhead   Nov 2010