passage

passage
for Crystal Dawn

fifth day of moving,
what was left:

brass teddy bear music box
   on the window sill;
dimes, nickels, pennies, worn-out shoes
   across the carpet.

two unopened rolls of Christmas wrap
   to the side;
one burgundy, gold, and white
   high school cheer leading uniform
      hanging in the closet.

one oak chair
   in the middle of the room;
one glass, one spoon
   on the chair.

a brush, three pens, two pencils
   scattered in a corner;
one rolled-up angel poster
   leaning against a wall.

one phone and one answering machine
   (said she wouldn't be needing them);
one bouquet of dried pink roses with
   red ribbon
      on the floor by the door.

in each molecule of the room,
in each molecule of the air,
   a hologram
      of nineteen years.