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It is nearly twenty years since my brother died but I can still see him in the forefront of my mind.

The Ghost of a Long-Lost Past

Mary_cochrane_photo_march_2013by Mary Cochrane19 Sep 2014

He strides across the lonely waste ground,
Wild hair jutting forth like the Medusan serpents;
The ghost of a long-lost past
From a Glasgow flat with rats
And acid-popping students.

Gliding between each sphere,
He is always near, whispering.
And who would not wish
To be famished and beaten once again
By the poverty, cold and pain,
For one last glimpse, one last breath, of him?

(To John)