not breathing,
Joshua Eustis
What happened to the trees my father planted?
The red tops in the back yard
Could they be shoring up the delta somewhere?
In a landfill, or a stream?
Things can never be the same as they once were
The gates go up, the trees come down
That timeless feeling of not understanding
Furniture's been moved around
Or something hidden in past lives of children
Time has made ghosts of us all
My little sister's filthy handprint still there
Hidden on the closet wall
Old pieces of my life are falling away
Another piece of me gone