A family moves into our old home.
Meaning, it is old in age.
Also,
Old.
Meaning it was ours when we were living.
My husband and I.
We passed away three days
Apart.
A year
Ago.
Still, we wander.
How do we settle in a new place after fifty
Five years
Together?
In the same
Home?
We are not
Wise
We were not in
Life.
We are not in
Death.
———-
The new family is a couple.
Together.
Twenty years. Two daughters. One son.
The son, twelve. Daniel.
The daughters, nine, and five. Stella and
Serena.
———-
My husband smiles. He says, darling you’ve done
Your
Homework.
I say, yes. This place was and is important to
Us.
I say, look, sweetheart. They keep our roses neatly
Trimmed. And they’ve kept the house
The Robin’s egg blue I love so.
Then I say,
The oak.
How it has grown in only one
Year.
———-
He says, shall we go in? They won’t see
Us.
I surprise myself by saying,
No.
———-
I like the outside. It’s June.
Roses.
Pink, yellow, burgundy, true red.
Heavenly scent.
I can’t take one.
Against the
Rules.
———-
Darkness falls
I take in a quick shallow breath.
I can, still, though I’m no longer living.
As can
Husband
I see our little calico kitty, Charlotte in the shadows that remain. Under the blue
Hydrangea.
Madeleine, across the street, took her
In.
I long to hold her one more time.
Husband says, sweetie. She can’t see
Us.
And I know this. We are transparent.
My heart
Breaks. I can hear it.
The sound of a small branch snapping.
A lilac branch heavy with blossoms.
Fleeting.
———-
I cry. Harder than I did when I was living.
In pain.
I say I only want to touch the front door of the home I love
So much.
Also, against the rules. Look, but don’t
Touch.
We could enter, without
Touching. But still
Feeling.
It’s too much.
Husband pulls a pair of clippers from a
Pocket.
I say, but Charles!
The rules!
But he walks to my favorite bush,
An antique pink, clips off a fully blossomed
Rose. Stem attached.
He says, you know, Emily, that I have never been
A strict rule
Follower.
I hold it to my heart.
Sweet scent, thorns, and all.
Rebellious Hazelnuts 