CINDY

Cindy is a ghost
whom I sometimes miss.
Sometimes I wonder
why she is not there to call me,
from across the room,
or for me to call her,
from across the room.
I could write about all of the foods she liked,
or about the way she laughed.
But that might be too much,
that might be enough to turn her
from a ghost into a person again.
Because even ghosts have memories,
and when those memories
grow too strong,
as when blowing on some embers,
that can bring them back to life
again.