Todos tus muertos

I´ve been saying goodbye for years.

So why won´t you go?

You are dead.

And we´d been divorced for 12 years.

How is it you reppear,

uninvited, presumptuous, self- centered

as always,

content to show up in my mind´s eye-

there, under those almond trees

where we rode our bikes on my 20 th birthday,

in the Italian countryside;

or sliding up beside me

al traffic ligths,

a phantom with your pale hair,

reddish beard, round face?

I´m sorry.

I´m tired of these ghostly visitations

Go now.


I forgive you.

What the dead do, Cher Holt- Fortin, robado de Regrests Only. Edited by Martha Manno.

Photo: ©Christopher Linn if interested in buying and/or using images seen, contact me by email

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