I think I became a ghost, by mistake. Or perhaps, as they say, I ghosted. Did I forget to say “goodbye,” to you? Or did you text me, only to receive no reply? Please know I didn’t mean to leave you hanging on a fluttering thread— but the grief had hallowed me out, scooped all the light out of my eyes and shoved me with a rough hand out that door—the loose fabric of my pale nightgown snagging on a splintered shard of wood near the knob, no shred of me left except this barest trace of this place where I’d spent an age and I couldn’t defend myself from the onslaught—two mewling babes held tight to my milk-stained chest, my thin gown barely concealing the gaping wound in my belly, my heart—and three wraith-light sets of footsteps trailing softly behind me, holding on to the torn and frayed edges of my fluttering skirt, their small fingers fisting around this last certainty— What I’m trying to say is it’s nothing personal. Perhaps I became a ghost by mistake. Or perhaps, as they say, I ghosted. Perhaps a ghost just doesn’t have what it takes to reach back.
Friends,
Thank you for being here. I just had to share this poem with you today, one of the many that is due to be released in my first book length poetry publication entitled, As the Sparrow Flies.
I’ve been working on and off on this collection for the better part of five years now—and I am so very grateful for the friends and family who have pushed me to finish what I started. I’m really excited and proud of this project, and I can’t wait to share more with you soon.
If you’d like to be in touch, and hear more updates, be sure to subscribe to my newsletter here on Substack.
More soon! But today, celebration.
Warmly,
Gracie
I love this. Beautiful, friend!
I’ve never doubted you. What I’ve known is that your words tell me about your life as a Jesus follower, a wife, a mommy and a farmer. I’m jealous of your life, truly. I’m so excited for you and your book. 🙏🏻🕯🕊❤️🩹🤍💚