Ghost Stories

Ghost Stories


The best thing about a ghost biscuit

Is the hint of its past life –

That little bit of cumin

Or maybe coriander –

That mingles with the butter

And honey

Or better yet, the marmalade

With which I have slathered it


The best thing about a ghost biscuit

Is the feeling I have

While baking it

That I’m making breaking new ground;

The feeling I have

While combining the ingredients

That there may never ever be

A batch of biscuits

Exactly like this one


The best thing about a ghost biscuit

Is the look on her face

As she tastes it for the first time

And tries to figure out

What the heck is in there


The best tasting ghost biscuits

Are eaten


On northern river trips

With fresh fish


They can be used

In a pinch

As platforms for peanut butter

Or large hunks of cheddar cheese


[But really]

They are edible records,

Tasty snapshots of yesterday’s


They tell tall tales


Ghost stories


The best thing about the ghost biscuit

I’m eating now

Is that I have no idea

Where it came from


I found it in the pocket of my raincoat

The one that’s been

Hanging on the doorknob

Ever since we returned from our last

Canoe trip


That was more than a month ago

Wasn’t it?


It tastes a little like wood smoke



And Cayenne

It would be even better with

A piece of cheese

But I think I’ll eat it






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