This poem I dedicated to all the
people I have lost during the years. The list is growing steadily.
I keep my album with the faces of people I love
on the inner side of my closed shut eyes. All
dead now, they increase their numbers steadily.
my grandparents in their time, a neighbour by
a pupil by a bomb, another in the never ending
two friends whose heart could no longer lift
the accumulating weights of pain,
and a son whose exposed sensitivity left him
wide open to the coyotes of despair.
I upload their faces to my retina, but when I
again they drift away into the galaxy of time
that swirls from future to past. Until
we meet again, dear ones, when I cross
the threshold between what is and isn't.