Gone and Gone

 
How do I search for dreams
that are a whisper on an old cassette tape
stuck in a dusty drawer in my childhood bedroom?

I wake up every day with empty faces hanging around me
and my mind scrabbling to hold their names
like a curled fog in a fist.

I uncurl my fingers, and a mind shadow winks past.
Unfulfilled mourning reminds me of what faded.