unbidden,
old thoughts come
back around—
only this time, upside-
down
or a little off-
center—
reminds you a little of
swarming ghosts
in a midnight soirée
at an old haunted mansion.
When they were alive,
each of them
used to know you,
used to love you, perhaps—
but now that
is finished.
And yet, each of them
shows up here,
and they all sing
as one.
The tune is monotonous;
the mood gloomy,
but blithe.
As if each one
has left something minor
undone.
