Ghosts

I cleaned out the kitchen cabinets this morning

and there in the back of the cabinet

behind the other cups and glasses

your cup sat, cracked and untouched

where you left it--

I threw it away.

I finally cleaned out the closet this afternoon

to pack up a lot of old stuff for charity

and there in the back behind the winter coats

I found your old letterman jacket

still in the plastic were you had it cleaned.

I gave it away.

I cleaned out my dresser tonight

and there under my lacy nighties and stockings,

my bras and panties

I found a letter-

a love letter you had written-

a few cherished promises you had given and I believed.

I burnt it in the ashtray.

Ghosts.

All ghosts.

They linger here to haunt me.

They dance in my head and taunt me.

They know if they stay long enough I'll conjure you up.

And that's no good for anyone.

So I'm exorcising them-

from my home,

from my head,

from my heart.

I am clean.

I am free.

And it's a brand new day.



for Kristen

There once was a little girl

who had a little curl

right in the center of her forehead.

And on her left arm

where it ought not belong

a huge lump surfaced instead.

Firm and big it grew

and as it grew

the terrible sinking fear of her family did too.

The doctors news they anxiously claimed

and in horror realized the lump

had a name.

Rhabdomyosarcoma was its nomenclature

A very big word for one so small in stature.

Chemotherapy seemed the way to go

But how well it would work they simply did not know.

Days and weeks and months eventually passed

and she grew tired of tile and steal and glass.

She grew tired of doctors and nurses; of IVs and needles

and things that go 'bip' in the night.

But mainly it was the other sick children

Who never came back when they left her sight

that worried her and gave her the most freight.

She herself became thin and pale and weak

her eyes were sunken and she was hallow of cheek.

Then sadly her beautiful curls fell out in piles-

The finale mark of a cancer child.

Unlike her counterparts who were

healthy and carefree.

She went through so much

for a child of only three.

(Shannon Marie and Kristen Michelle)

Death by Cancer or Death by Chemo-

What a hell of a thing to have to choose.

But when you hold your dying child in your arms

You know you have nothing else to loose.

But her mother in one last desperate plea

Had them remove every tube, every needle, every IV.

Though the doctors strongly disapproved

She did it anyway.

And because she did

You turned twenty today.

Happy Birthday Kristen Michelle.

I love you.

(Alicia Danielle, Shannon Marie and Kristen Michelle)