there's no ghosts here

I hang up washing inside
out of the reaching fingers of rain
that would have us clothesless
for a few more days

He won't come near this room
can barely step inside
without his insides breaking
into emotions you can't lock in a box

I can still see her last breaths here
if I remember to look backwards through time
a nurse of one side of her bed
me holding her hand telling her
it's going to be okay
though she wasn't lucid enough
to know I was lying

I wasn't there for her last breath
maybe I'd see her ghost if I was
all I see is a room that once held her presence
still filled with her things
no one but me can bear to look at

I hang up washing inside
out of the reaching fingers of rain
that would have us clothesless
for a few more days

If I fill it with us
it won't be empty anymore

(C) Indie Adams 2021