My grandmother’s garden with rabbits eating her plants, my grandfather waking up at
five in the morning every day to make his social rounds.
A handmade first communion dress, magnolia trees in bloom,
unwrapped Christmas presents, stepping on a metal rake and lying
in a tub as my foot bled
My father playing chess in every spare moment, how I could here him thinking about chess
when he was on the phone with me.
These phantoms of moments and people dissolved
the way I imagine losing a finger might feel as if it’s still there when it really is not,
is how they linger