All of this is food for ghosts – but then,
the care and feeding of phantoms isn't hard.
Everything loved that passes plants a seed,
so that future echoes serve to nurture,
every time the bus passes that restaurant,
every elevator that plays that particular song.

In truth, ghosts are roaches,
nigh impossible to exterminate or eradicate,
stubborn little spooks, persistant poletergeists,
that never come out in the wash or the sun.