by Emily G. Bjustrom
Ghosts gather under the refrigerator
Behind the dresser
And on the coat closet floor
In the milky daylight
The ghosts hunt for memories
To dance with
-a 12th birthday party-
-that day at the beach-
-a girl alone, left on the front steps-
In the day it’s plain
The past stalks the present
In shadows and from the corners of eyes.
A cold home.
A woman unburdened.
But haunted still by the weight
Of a dirty faced child
A demanding desk
The heavy gaze of a girl waiting on the steps.
Saturday's Sirens 