Two Squares and a Circle

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What ghosts follow when you track

back so far?  Stone foundations,

full of your words, crumble and roll,

and the pine pieces, marked by knots

of pain and despair, age away in

forgetfulness.  Is this a blessing,

when the holes appear, let light and cold

pass, allow locked in grievances to leave?

Or does it all remain anyway, underneath

the rusted metal roof – the hurts

that can’t be released, circling around

the structure as time takes it down?

There’s still a place to let it go –

two squares and a circle.