I can hear your voices falling
Up the stairs
Like shadows from the living room
A song stuck in my head
That I can only hum.

When I’m older I’ll remember
Feeling warm and hearing
The music of your laughter
Muffled by the door
And I won’t know the details
But the stories, I’ll remember.

poetry is crystal of life.

You are the ghost of what remains
Able to persist in soil ruined by the workings of man
Able to grow after the rage of fire
I am in awe of your ability to exist in such turmoil
Yet know that strange soils can bring rich beginnings
I may know little about your world
But recognize your strength to do what many fear