Power of ghosts

Watch the sky withdraw, its beauty adorned with icy artifice
Snow settles in the wind,
Gently caressing the things that made it real
A carpet of snow settling in the grotesque view of the city,
Barely real, this wind, but it feels crisp and cold,
Like all it needed, after all, was to be pressed by the wall
And believed to be the most powerful of all

Real, but barely; just wind,
And snow, icy and dusty as it seems
I believe in the power of ghosts:
Barely physique,
But exquisite in its fault,
Born into the gutter of life,
Passing by, just passing by