A KIND OF DEATH
The living who die to us –
we rub them off our hands,*
clean mirrors of their toothpaste,
wastebaskets of their words.
Rearranging our homes,
we throw out sugar for their cereal,
store extra pillows in the closets.
Still, their words twist memory
and mirrors need cleaning.
Dreams finger dust.
* from Charles Wright’s poem, "Homage To Paul Cezanne"
Copyright 1995, Kathy Banas
Kathy Banas is a Seattle writer and math tutor. Her work is published in Northwest Poet’s and Artist’s Calendar ’96, The Raven Chronicles, Poets On:, and several other publications. Jazz vibraphone musician and composer, Evan Buehler, and she perform collaborations of their arts.