Hauntings

When I am unencumbered by a body's weight

and sprightly as a beam of light

you'll never find me in the graveyard gloom at night

or, half-glimpsed, wraith-like in the rain;

you'll find me in the morning woods, climbing trees again. 

Look first to tall Scots Pine, the rich red bark and soaring boughs

the kind of tree too hard to climb but easy now. 

Then look to Cedar's airy, sunlit canopy. 

Wherever light within a shadow sits, it's likely me.

I'll probably give Birch a miss,  I love the tree 

but wouldn't want to sit in such a tickly canopy.

And other trees like Ash or Yews

are nice enough but lack the views.

So,  if you miss me, don't look down.

I won't be lying underground,

Look upward to the tops of trees. 

That dappled light might just be me.