WHEN I GO HOME

           



    The ghosts come out to meet me
        from their sleep.
    Not as my parents
        do they watch the door,
    but from each photo's frozen face
        they peep and haunt the habits
            I can wear no more.
    They summon up the dead
        from letters found
            and jab me
        with each name out of my past.
    Forgotten thoughts spring
        from each scent and sound
    to mock me
        for my dreams that did not last.
    Yet in the dark,
        alone,
            they make me start to wonder
                who and where and when I am
    as formless faces
        that once held my heart
            beseech me
                now to join among the damned.
    They are the beings
        that I used to be.
            Each cannot yet forgive
                each change in me.

 

 

Reviews

[TLK]

The last stanza really brings this into focus.