I am haunted
by weeping willows
with branches hanging
and I see their faces on the leaves.
I see their faces in my sleep.
Eyes dead to the world
and long lost to me.
I see their faces as they hang.
I am haunted.
We live with loss
carry it with us from place to place
from person to person
hoping they’ll understand
the faces that follow us through
lost and hiding in leaves and love.
How I see their faces as they hang.