Continuation

Ana Christaldi

I said the ghosts are alive

and they are.

I'm not sure if I believe in them in the traditional sense,

the dead circling us the way the

vultures circled them.

But I think there are moments that never quite end.

And the beach is busy with sandcastles

that have already toppled.

A kindergarten houses the handprints of 35-year-old bankers

that forget what the name of the stuffed tiger in the classroom was.

But the walls remember and so does the carpet,

no matter how many times it's seen the vacuum.

Laughs echo after lungs forget air

and the Earth recalls the shape of a footprint

and a coffin the same.

There are oh so many ways to be dead,

but even decayed and feed for the fox pups,

do you know how many times

you will remain to be alive?