We are holding up air
she said she would haunt us and we laughed
welcoming the haunting from her
will she haunt me in the kitchen; the recipe books worn with wisdom?
flour and water mixing with the starter bringing the perfect sour the next morning
will she haunt me in the garden?
sweet raspberries each summer with a dollop, or two, or three, of fresh cream on top
will she haunt me driving down the mountain?
the perfect push on the clutch and the gears grinding right into place
will she haunt the paths, the beach, the agates glimmering in the sun?
will she haunt the hummingbirds? bumping their heads against the skylights, laughter and squeals coming from those who attempt their capture and release
her haunting will be in the wind, the rain, drenching the garden and bringing it to life
her haunting will be in the crunch of sand between little toes, watching for otters
her haunting will be in the first cup of coffee, keeping hands hot with a warmed cup
her haunting will be in the sunlight bouncing off the water and peeking through the lofty branches onto the deck
her haunting is and will be
without her, we are holding up air and welcome the haunting as we laugh
April 1, 2013
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