Treasure Island

Michael Philips


Colleagues Who Die


Colleagues who die
kept in my rolodex
alive in circulation
flipping round in ritual
procession,
propped up by the living.

Looking for someone else
I sometimes encounter one of them
like a lone winter leaf still clinging to a tree
A silent abandoned phone number, a boarded up building
Touch the card like the Vietnam Wall
The name, the title, the unfinished business
A little flag saying I was here.

Submitted: Friday, January 07, 2005
Edited: Friday, October 13, 2006

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