Her pictures pop up on every wall
like patches of sunshine
on the lawn in springexcept there’s no life to drive the seasons
in this house
a haunted house decorated with grief
pictures that speak in silence

just look at this one even
if you know what you’re looking at

just look at her picture taken in Cape May
her impish smile
ready to tear the gift wrapping off the town
and take it on

swing open every door and laugh
at whatever she finds behind it…
ready for anything but…
a haunted house tour that never ends…

where she stares at me from every picture frame,
not to spook me,
the hapless tourist on a never ending ride,
but because she’s there…

in a haunted house turned upside down
where the young live only in picture frames
and the old keep looking for the door,
a way out,
or in?
maybe into another picture frame