in memory of Dellon Sanders
I grieved in the quiet ways
one does when their tear ducts
don’t work properly.
Before returning home,
I lay in the grass of a park
late at night. A rabbit darted by
through a passage in the bushes,
perhaps to Wonderland while I lay.
I played the soft song from teens
back in the day comforting teens.
And perhaps sacrilegious, but I set aside
private space for the sacred profane
to watch Sixth Sense, anything with
ghosts, anything to tell me
this was not the end.
Ellen Huang is published in Sword & Kettle Press, Grimoire, Vamp Cat, Ghost City, and The Poeming Pigeon, among others. Catch her blog exploring the intersections of faith, fairytale, & film at: worrydollsandfloatinglights.wordpress.com.