Over there
There
Once more
A ghost.
See
See
Do you
See
There?
Repetition
Hasn’t diminished
The hair-raising-ness
Of this
Entrance.
Once more
A ghost.
Everytime
We forget,
Try to deny
What we have seen
And felt
But lo,
Look.
Once more
A ghost.
Look.

The branch of your story, growing like a limb,
Arrest it.
Snap the wood;
Cut off the sap flowing to the ends of it
Pushing out leaves.
This thing developing must break
In the face of what is about to happen.
Close the gateway of air and swallow that next thought
You will need every bit of yourself for what is to come.

That’s how we see it, our daily, or nightly, task:
Watching the minutes
First one, then the next
Those who would join us
Must expect them to tick by
And summon up their utmost patience
Our friends do not come along, not usually
But we have entreated this royal friend
To sit by
And witness
And approve
And affirm
What we have seen.
He has a gift of words, too.
He will absolve us somehow
And be the bridge between this world and the next.
We watch the minutes
We do not speak to them.

Belief will shake you with its two arms
Before the night is through
You can resist it when delivered with words
You can push it away when it comes to you pleading
You could even wash it away when you drink it like wine
But before too long
It will be a body
Impassable
And solid
It will take your arms
And pin them to your sides
It will freeze your hair to your neck
Make your eyes bigger than you’ve ever felt them
It will happen so suddenly
It will no longer be a question of believing
It will be belief that you have no need to believe in
It will be a relief.

What –
Come on now Barnardo
What’s going on?
This is all some joke right?
I mean, we’re crazy, right?
It’s a figment
Not a man
Not a king
Not the person we thought it was
Not a ghost
No no
It’s not possible
So it must be you, Barnardo
You who are crazy
You who saw the shadows come together into a man shaped cloud
You saw the air shift around the shape
The solid image of what we are sure we didn’t see
Of what could not be.

Shall I make a list?
I know I will forget someone.
When I needed an arm and a hand to hold, she offered one.
Today, that’s what she did. I could not begin to add up all the ways she hath relieved me in the past.
When I thought there was no tenderness on the earth for me – he relieved me, finds new ways to relieve me all the time. He fed me. How can it be recounted?
O mother
O father
O brother
Relief from the vast ocean of unknownness, each of you
Has pulled me, gasping from the salt water
Cousin, friend, teacher, stranger, shopkeeper, you
All have given your moments of relief
My list is long
Your deeds, large and small, sometimes forgotten, but always appreciated.

Such finality for the end of a shift –
No sense of “Fish biting?” “Nope” or
“Have a good one.” Or “Take care.”
No, as Francisco goes to bed
Marcellus seems as if he’s sending him on a voyage
Across oceans for months
Or into the depths of the ocean for his final tour of duty
In Davy Jones’ locker.
Thanks for all your hard work, Francisco,
For the enemy ranks you have laid open with your blade
For standing guard over the Danes
For filling your uniform with the softness of your body
And holding it all straight.
O, we do not know what your next adventure will be
But we crash our bottle against the hull of your boat
And send you out into the darkness.