I creep through the garden unnoticed,
Or so I think until you head me off.
You jump out at me from the bushes
And I gasp when I see your face.
You are quick to assume why I’m here,
But I deny it with all certainty.
I am many things, but not a thief;
I will not stand here and accept the blame.
Your missing vase is not my problem,
And I’ve nothing at all to do with it.
But you don’t seem to believe me at first,
Glaring at me with your bright, clever eyes.
You take in my tattered navy dress,
My worn-out heels, and the rose in my hand.
You don’t understand who–what I am;
You think I’m only a poor, lost girl.
I’m not used to people seeing me,
Chiefly when I’m traipsing through their garden.
I counted upon you, least of all,
To see me as more than just transparent.
It isn’t till you try to grab me
That you discover my ghastly secret.
As your hand passes straight through my arm,
You gasp in surprise as the truth sinks in.
The word “Ghost” passes over your lips
As if you had said the name of a Queen.
You look at me in a profound way,
Like I am not wretched, but beautiful.
For the first time in my ghostly life,
I am loved like I never was before.
Before I died and got stuck alone,
Before I stumbled upon your garden.
Every morning I wake up grateful,
Grateful that you are beside me always.
That you didn’t run when you saw me,
That you love me for all my oddities.