Laura

Laura





I went to visit your mother the other day but you
Weren’t there.
I had a glass of wine, we talked
About a new addition to the end
Of your house.
You
Were on our minds
But
We didn’t speak of you.
Your mother sent me to look at the floral arrangement
Now withered & dried that your friends sent
From France.
They miss you.
Your old dresses from when you were
2 or 3
are hung up around the room along with
hand-worn pictures.
I imagine that the creases and creavises
The smears along the edges are from
Love and tears
Mingled together.
You were absent from the dominant conversation
But we all spoke of you inbetweenbreathes
And you were present in
Gaps
in conversation.
Our words and prayers mixing into something
Shiny and bright floating up to you.