Ghostsong

When I come back to life I’ll find you
Push my thumbs into your eyes and blind you
And when you hear your name called out across a crowded street
You’ll think of me and swear the ground was stolen from your feet
In the old apartment or the place beneath the stairs
Reaching for a groping palm or vacant stares
Call the cops or call one of your well meaning friends
Time will see them scatter off to fight what they defend
If you die tomorrow or a hundred years from now
There won’t be an article or a furrowed brow
Yours is like the spirit of the breeze that blows through town
No one remembers unless it knocks something down