The Ghost

a poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

When I got up,
in the night,
the beautiful
ghost took fright
and rode off on
a white charger
to the dark valley
beyond dreams
where it could
live in peace and
not be scared by
man.
We had a pact
I should live
in the day and
it exist in the night,
but I got up
clearing
bad memories
off my mind,
that’s a heavy
burden.
She is beautiful
and kind,
now other spooks,
with evil intent,
try to crowd
my mind.