Who Am I?

Who am I
But a Spectre in the Wind
Floating free
But locked in Limbo
Soaring great heights
In Silence
Zooming so fast
That time stands still.

I am that Spectre
That all know so well
Yet ignore and dismiss
In jest.
In Jest – is my form such
Comedic play?
You laugh at me
I laugh with you;
“The Spectre is so funny,
He makes us laugh,” you say
As you walk away.

“Well…Ta-ra now! Be good! Be happy!”
The Spectre waves madly,
His welcome grin replaced slowly
By a forlorn smile…
“Chin up, old chap.
They’ll come again…
When they want a bit of fun…
They almost always do…
Well most times…
Perhaps the odd occasion?”

So the Spectre floats free
High and Wide,
Fast and Slow,
School boy grin on his aged face,
Seeking but not searching
For the next campfire
And maybe perhaps…
The light at the end of the Tunnel.
But see there in his pocket?
He pats it oh so gently
As he hums a joyful tune
To a blue robot cat
Whose magical pocket
Might fulfil his requests and dreams.
He pats his pocket, & pats & pats:
And flies away humming.

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