To hold me
And keep me
From running
Because in every picture
That’s me crumbling;
Drifting
And distant—
In every photo
I am what’s missing.
That’s why I understand
The art of avoiding crowds,
The pitfalls
And stumbling blocks
Of grief…
Houses with vacancy signs
In windows,
And streets
Where I no longer go
Since their sorrow
Leaves only ghosts.
It’s difficult,
Being out of grace,
I need a Vergil
To guide me
Past empty streets
And seedy bars
Whose denizens
Gaze from doorways
Their stares trouble me
More than your ghost face
Always before me.
So, I walk on
Unnoticed by most
Determined
To find new places
In my heart
Places where grief
Can’t reach;
And no phantoms
Seek;
Where no pain
Can teach me
How desolate fall can be.