every time
i come home
there is something
new
a shade of green
a street gone bad
a crane in the sky
a shop closed down
there is
newness to the truth
that what
was new
is now old
there is newness
to the air
an absence in our breath
people we love forever
now gone
disappeared
these disappearances
float through the wind
and rush
in a wave of heavy gusts
blow down the trees
that tried to stand still
that tried to move on
like the seasons
of their leaves
always coming back
always changing colors
yet these
these disappearances
remain
holes without soil
for filling
this photo
serene in its appearance
joyful in its pose
love on full exposure
has withered
the edges are folding
more stains
the yard
in the background
has gone from spring
to fall—
suddenly
the smiles seem forced
the embraces feel false
our eyes playing tricks
on me
will there be an antidote
a cure to fix the blood
or was it all illusory
a veil to mask the drug
is there ground for planting
or has the dirt gone bad
or have the disappearances
ruined everything we had