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Visitors

The dead again! Old family visitors.
Keepers, perhaps, of some 'shared soul'.
Why this persistence, merely to wander
my borrowed house at a loss for words?
Do I keep them here with a mind engrossed
by unfinished business? Am I coming home
to those dark borders where the dead and living
stumble into each other's arms? How
beautiful they are! How life haunts them!
Nightly they warm themselves at my stove.