Based on a real occurrence with a homeless man acting as a restless spirit:

Cars echoed past dripping with the ambient stain,
the first conscious stroke, of haunting memories.
From the station looking-glass,
his eyes peered to and fro with the phantom’s quest.

Irrevocably restless and pursuant of something
substantial and real to finally grasp.
The door to the outside would flicker open
at his leaning appearance.

Erect and attentively gazing
for brief and elongated moments,
his demeanor seemed to stem
from the passing age of a crow
and harbored an onlooking grievance
as if arriving would palliate this profuse dissatisfaction.

At the flash of an instant, he would disappear completely
then fade into another stance somewhere a few steps away.
His transient presence would shift through the archaic walls of the station--
     he would be outside and then back in.

His lurking steps never hit an audible note,
but the routine, dry screeches of an arriving train
seemed to pace his movement.

I carefully gathered myself and got up as the train halted.
As I took my seat on the train,
I wondered if there was anything that could remedy whatever plagued
     that departing soul.

What do you think? Criticisms and praise welcome.

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