Miniature lilac tea-candles

in the bathroom, on the john

are symbols of the teardrops

from the bathtub, they burned on.

And that spray of ivy hanging

from the candelabra on the wall

with pictures of dark-brown oak leaves-

reflect you, & to me call.

Our Christmas tree is stripped now

without the tinsel and the balls--

lies naked by the hall door;

mist...

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ghosts lurk around those crosses
there's a couple on Kinsman, you know
tucked in the roadside littered weeds
black craters of stolen memories
strewn with sooty plastic flowers
smeared with bygone tears
broken down old scarecrows
faded to the reckless speeders
that pass

like the one that stands
just below the dog-leg turn
off old 608 south, imagine
the anguish, the laments of loss,
t...

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