No waiting in the wings
When a closet
close and partly closed
with memories,
fond illusions swells
emotional ghosts,
sighs forgotten
from broken vessels leak
Its walls no longer
doubts contain
so spirits and matches
replace hinges and latches
that secured that space
Once these elements
break and rust,
the contents remaining
incinerate we must.
A house now vacant
doubt contains
the tragic, not magic
the eyelids restrain
the limbs are weary,
the stomach hollow
since thoroughly
cleared from thoughts
for tomorrow.