They are
just words
when written 
oh no
they are 
much more 
said the
pen to
the paper 
they are
such promises 
when read

And I remember 
oh I remember 
said the acorn 
one frosty day
of belonging once 
to an oak
way up high
and looking down 
but now down 
I truly am 
and I remember 
how I remember 
being mighty once 

What to do 
when those whom
you loved die
and the secret 
that you were
way back then 
dies right along 
who to tell 
what to say 
I knew your 
dad but not 
in that way 
at my age 
all these loves
become but stones 
skimmed and sunk

Ghosts not ghouls 
shadows not monsters 
just empty things 
that aren’t hollow 
for within them 
once had beat
now no more 
they carry emptiness 
like the shallow 
giving way to 
depths of sea
never seen again 

It’s in quiet
I feel comfort
certainly not noise
or even distraction 
the absence of 
things besides me
in a bubble 
keeping at bay
all the others 
for they scratch 
paw and scream 
like unseen animals 
in the wood