Such Ghosts

The tumbleweed bumping against
The glass door of the old rented
Place just stripped of water damage

And now reinhabited is
Oddly appealing, elegant
In its feathery twigginess,

Plant one remove from powdering
Into dust, its near-weightlessness
A lovely, invasive technique

For successful reproduction.
Why depend on winds to set seeds
When the wind can take the whole plant,

Roaming corpse, traveling parent?
Tumbleweeds fetch up anywhere,
Disintegrate, and start again.

Had the rental not been repaired.
Had the glass door broken or been
Open, one of these fecund ghosts

Would have blown in soon and begun
A colony of weeds in baths,
Sinks, toilets, any rotted wood,

And the house of desuetude
Would have become a staging ground
For more such ghosts not just your own.