The Visitors
in the middle of the night
they wake her
she remember pieces of her past
tall grass in the yard
a house
full of light
the somber sounds
slipping
through transom
windows
and her mother’s
garden dress
how they wander
through her world
when they get up from
their bleak beds
and allow her to surface
how they never
know
they are dead
From: Autumn Poetry: A Collection for the Season
Available on Amazon
Photo/ Jan Darrow
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