Sunday, July 08, 2007

After Halloween

The day after Halloween, it rained.
paper ghosts hung from tree limbs, got soggy
and fell into the collected piles of leaves on the ground.

I was walking slowly, fresh paint was collecting into puddles on the concrete.
I am learning to tell this story
so that the twists are my own:
ghosting makes rain; makes these new rituals lose their unfortunate legacies,
rain washes everything back to its origins.

I can take this kind of sadness
and carry it in my pocket until it is shiny and polished,
looking like new silver, looking like something somebody might want.

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