Your Old Shirts......
I have not, yet, recovered from the potent
Memories of family outings.
They peal like the anniversary
Of a loved one’s departing.
On such occasions, it is the intimacy
Of other families
That defines the negative space
of our seperation.
Living in the old neighborhood
I am haunted by ghosts.
And now that your gone, I
Wear your faults, I never forgave.
Like an old shirt of yours
Which warms me,
Still, with everything
I hated about you...
poem by John Tansey
Added by Poetry Lover
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