October 8

A stranger bows before her
legs with some declaration
she doesn’t hear. Headphones
plugging her into
the third Rolling

Stones song
in a row. Exactly 23
years since that fire
left her homeless
in New Haven. Exactly two

more months
till 50

becomes her new
home. Will it be
the last
compliment for her
she doesn’t hear?

Guardian Angel Dust to Dust

I enter the quiet
life through a seam
in this wall. First time I heard

your voice was a homecoming. Tell me
if ghosts speak. With a pronounced
accent? Is the language

of flowers reserved for them
the way I’ve reserved myself

for what’s left
of you? Memory is seamless.