The Photograph Is Crying
The ghost haunts itself
with its past life
every night re-enacting
not what was – but
what could have…should have
been
but –
was not.
Anguished by such imaginings
the ghost wanders in his wife’s dreams
tormented by her
soft crying
in the endless empty hours
of the early morning
as she hushes
her crying baby
with soothing breast milk
staring stupidly in a mirror
that stares stupidly back.
Her husband lost behind the glass
of their wedding photograph.
This poem was written/submitted by Dónall Dempsey.
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