A Haunting

The glass trembled
away from its stem,
trying to speak

with the voice
of someone long dead.
No? You do not

believe? Explain
to me then how the leaf
reddens in the wind,

how grief after grief
falls from the branch
yet you remember

each vein
on its five-
pointed body.

[LAG-signature date=”11 01 2014″ url=”http://morningporch.com/2014/10/159124133/”]

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