His ghost was with me that morning
Wandering round my room
While I tried to write,
Lifting the corners of my laundry,
Making the dust dance in the light.

I could not bare to look,
To look at the shape that cast the shadow.
I knew it was his ghost,
But was stricken with the terror
That it might be something else...

Not a ghost at all,
Just the shadow of a tree.

Turns out  
Not being haunted
Is what really frightens me. 

Joanna Harker Shaw is a PhD student and poet from Scotland. As well as writing and illustrating poetry, Joanna enjoys writing for stage and directing short films when she has the time. She currently lives in London.