Old Haunts

For J.E.M.

I’m not just a name carved in stone.
You may hear when I’m clumsy in the night.
Then and now, more than sepulchral bones,
but I’ll back away at your slightest fright.
I’ll hang like the mist in your yard,
or like sugar in water, sweet but unseen,
and you, you won’t disregard
my story, my life: you know where I’ve been.
I’m not among the dead weeds.
I’m upstairs—can’t you smell my pipe?
I’m not where the flowers went to seed—
I’m here, an orb full of light.
So reach out, take hold! Here, you are safe.
Lonely, but not alone, in a house full of grace.